


Dead Wrong

by amelia



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alien Character(s), Injury, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2019-10-25 07:57:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 33,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17721209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amelia/pseuds/amelia
Summary: Jack and Ianto try and recover after a car accident, but neither of them is faring well. Can Jack repair their relationship and recover the team's trust?





	1. Waking Will

**Author's Note:**

> The opening is slightly morbid but the rest is not.

1\. Out of control

Jack Harkness coughed and then gagged, clutching the counter in front of him. A swarm of small flies bubbled from his guts, crawled up his insides, and flew in a cloud from his mouth as he breathed out. 

His stomach churned, his insides itched, and the flies hovered for a moment in a cloud. Startled, Jack stepped back, still coughing. And then the flies’ wings gave out, coated in mucus, and they dropped to the ground, a pile of dust. 

Jack’s breath came easier now. Five days, six hours, and three minutes from the accident, he’d resurrected again. He found himself surrounded by cold tile, on the cot in the autopsy room of the Hub.

He sat up, cautiously, hearing his joints creak and his muscles feeling uneven and strange in his body. He was alone with the cold steel and the surreal fluorescent lights for a time, unsure what time of day it might be or how long he’d been unconscious. 

When the team finally noticed his movements on the camera, it was Owen’s sour face that Jack saw first. He came down to examine him before the rest of the team dared to come near. 

“Jack, just sit still.” Owen sat with a grim expression by his bed and shone bright lights into his eyes. “Take it easy, Captain,” he warned. 

“I feel alright,” Jack had said, pushing himself to his feet. But he felt nauseous and dizzy as soon as he stood, and he hovered for a moment by the bedside.

“I’m serious, Jack,” Owen said, steadying him with a hand at his elbow. “You’ve been out five days. This could be your last chance.”

Jack looked at him, not quite comprehending the concern on his face. Disoriented, he pulled away and lurched up the steps. “Thanks, doc. Said I’m fine, didn’t I?”

But his feet tripped against the steps, and he could feel the swelling and stiffness in his joints. His muscles twitched. He’d headed for his office, past empty workstations, ignoring Owen’s voice behind him. “Jack. Wait.”

The thick weight in his belly made the Captain switch course abruptly, taking refuge in the rest room, where he stood now looking down at the flies in the sink.

His body had started to decompose before rebuilding itself. Jack studied himself in the mirror and saw the reasons that Owen had cautioned him. He’d resurrected again, as usual, but this time, death had left its imprint. 

In the mirror, half his face hung, numb and expressionless like he’d suffered a stroke. When he frowned, half his mouth stayed frozen in place. He’d thought, if he had to live forever, at least he’d always have his good looks. But no. Now he looked like the freak he was. 

His breath came fast and he closed his eyes against the rising panic. What was different, this time? The memories swam back as he reached for them in the dark. 

He’d been driving, warm in the car, through the dark. Ianto, by his side, with half a joke and an easy silence between them. A flash of light like oncoming headlights, and he’d swerved. 

It was so mundane, so boring, just a car accident. 

And Ianto Jones, his butler, his right-hand man—hell, his everything—where was he now? He could handle anything, but Ianto?

Jack couldn’t even look himself in the eye. He ran a hand down his chest, down his stomach, and palmed his cock. His body looked all right. But everything itched, fresh from death. Just for a moment, he wanted to revisit his skin and take refuge in physical pleasure.

But even this felt like a vestigial organ and refused to respond. Shivering, Jack fumbled in the cabinet for an extra pair of trousers and yanked them on. He left without looking at himself again in the mirror.

 

\-----

2\. Reality strikes

Jack stopped outside Ianto’s hospital room, hearing the team talking inside. 

“He’s taking longer to come back, now, every time.” Owen said. “He’s not the same.”

“You think he’s still hurt?” Tosh asked. “That he’s not healing so quickly?” 

“Not just that. We can’t trust him.” 

“What are you saying?” Tosh asked, leaning back to look at Owen’s expression. “He’s possessed?” 

The doctor shrugged, “I think he’s still Jack—but he’s not healing right. I’ll need to run some tests.”

Jack had heard enough. Sucking in a breath, he pushed his way through the door, forcing a smile even though it hurt. “Hey kids! How’s our patient?”

He felt his leg drag behind him for a second, unable to keep up his usual swagger, but he forced himself upright as if nothing was wrong. 

“He’s resting,” Owen looked down on Ianto. “He’s out of the woods, but he may not remember much, yet.”

Ianto’s eyes were closed, his face pale, and his body an obscure lump beneath the blankets. “Hey, Ianto.” Jack bent to lift the patient’s hand in his own. It was like plasticine, too cold and too pliable. Jack felt the guilt like a lump in his throat.

The doctors had reported a concussion, cracked ribs, a broken knee and arm, and burns over Ianto’s neck where the seat belt had cut into him. Thank goodness for the suits he always wore. They’d given him some protection.

“Don’t rush him,” Owen said. “He should wake up soon, but he’ll need a few weeks. No field duty for at least a month.”

“Whatever he needs,” Jack answered, clutching Ianto’s fingers, and unable to tear away his gaze from Ianto’s slack face. 

“And Captain? I’d like to run some tests.”

“Yes,” Jack said right away, “of course.”

“On both of you.”

Jack breathed out through his teeth but he didn’t take his eyes off Ianto’s face. “That can wait.” Tosh and Owen exchanged glances, and then left Jack alone. 

Jack let his fingers slide across Ianto’s cheek. “You come back to me, all right?” he asked softly.

TBC


	2. Blame the Aliens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Ianto are trying to recover, but the team is gossiping about them. Owen and Toshiko tend some alien seedlings.

Blame the aliens

 

Ianto was barely out of the hospital, and he probably should have been home resting. But here he was instead, his cane clacking around the Hub, pouring everyone’s coffee, and calling out for a curry for lunch. Tosh and Gwen had put their heads together but couldn’t tell whether Owen had asked him to come in for observation, Jack had pressured him to stay close, or whether Ianto had determined on his own that he’d prefer to come in rather than endure the quiet hours alone in his flat. 

The tension in the Hub had eased somewhat, now that the whole team was together. Owen was picking up after himself, since no one wanted to give Ianto extra work. 

But they were restless, aware of the differences, and no one wanted to talk about it. At her desk, Gwen sifted through the CCTV footage of the accident again. She just couldn’t believe Jack had swerved off the road with no warning. When Ianto walked by, she closed the window, pretending to work on something else. He probably suspected she was up to something naughty, she thought. 

Nearby, Owen had covered a table with plastic wrap and was examining sections of an octopus that they suspected was an alien, preparing tissue slides for the microscope, and covertly observing his patient limping about. 

When Ianto disappeared with the coffee into Jack’s office, Toshiko came over. “They’ve gone and shut the door again. Jack’s probably apologizing again, trying to make it up with—” she gestured, obscenely.

“Jack swears he saw an explosion,” Gwen said, “Something melting down the highway. Something alien but I can’t find anything.”

“Like, we’re Torchwood, so let’s blame everything on the aliens,” Tosh said sarcastically. “But I’ve looked too, and there’s nothing. No one else on the road. He just suddenly swerved.” 

“Probably just careless,” Owen walked over and joined them. “Drunk, or messing about with Tea boy, or—”

“You said there was no alcohol in his blood,” Tosh pointed out. “He just can’t bloody admit to being a careless driver.”

Gwen grimaced. They didn’t want to believe it, but it wasn’t really a surprise. Jack was a wild driver, and a risk-taker in general. Was it any wonder that one day his antics would catch up to them? 

“My bet’s on our Captain not being quite right in the head anymore.” Owen said. “All that death. Body can’t heal. Brain cells starved for oxygen.”

“And now he’s been stumbling around for a week, pretending he’s normal.” Tosh grumbled. 

“Exactly,” Owen agreed. “So who’s going to tell him he needs physical therapy and new accommodations with safety railings in his old age?”

“Not it.” Toshiko said, waving her hands, and wandered off upstairs. 

Gwen sighed. Tosh and Owen were brilliant, dedicated employees. But their idea of handling people was to run off and hide. “Guess it’s up to me then, is it?”

 

\---

 

Under the bright white lights of the greenhouse, Owen had set up new trays of seedlings. He’d had to outbid a few eager botanists on Ebay to get his hands on these specimens, and he was certain they were alien. One look at the seed packs was all it took to recognize, neither the scrawled labels nor the silicon-cellulose material were terrestrial.

Beside the potted palms and spiral ginger, under a wall of orchids, tiny green sprouts were starting to emerge from the potting soil. Some trays looked barren of course. He had no idea what conditions they preferred, which seeds were still viable, and it was all guesswork. He could only try his luck with a variation of soils, lights, and weather, and take careful notes. 

Luckily, Tosh had taken an interest in the project, and offered to help him out. They moved down the rows together, writing on clipboards the height, color and condition of each sprout, each day. 

“Didn’t know you had a green thumb,” he remarked.

“I can pretend I’m outside, up here,” Tosh said. “In sunshine, maybe a park, not to mention doing some real science. Besides, I wanted to ask if you’d found anything.”

“Right,” Owen said, “I ran some tests Jack’s blood. Found some anomalies in the proteins. His body’s definitely fighting something, and having trouble repairing itself. I don’t recognize the antibodies.”

“So it’s some unknown disease,” Tosh interpreted, “And, he’s not healing?”

“Too soon to tell. It could mean he’s fighting something off, or could be the source of his problems. I’ll keep testing.” 

“Does he realize?” Tosh asked, “Or is he still pretending nothing’s wrong?”

Owen snorted. “He’s putting on a good face, but he’s struggling. Best not mention this to him, whatever Gwen says.”

“He’s got his pride, but really. If we get a rift spike and need to run out in the field, he’s in no condition.”

“Well, we have to trust he’ll do what’s right,” Owen said. They fell silent for a moment, until Owen noticed a new sprout. “Look at this one.” 

The seedling in question was a tall stalk of 2 inches, red in color, corkscrewing, already sending out proper grass-like leaves. 

“Looks a bit like wheat grass.”

“I have a theory,” Owen said. “Why would an alien have left this huge box of seedlings on earth? Were they selling them for horticulture trade? Or what if they’re all food crops, either lost in transport or being stored here like a seed bank?”

“Little alien wheat grains!” Tosh cooed at the grass. “I hope you’re delicious. Hey, do you think there are extraterrestrial plants growing here?”

Owen shrugged. “Maybe. Can’t be good. They could destroy our ecosystems.” Owen pulled out the seed box, and showed Tosh the little envelopes etched with the foreign scrawl. “Here, look at this. The packaging they arrived in, it’s got some writing on it, I reckon.” 

Tosh skimmed through the packages and ran her finger across the paper. It felt smooth and thick like vellum. “I can run a scan, maybe find out the language.” 

“Think you could translate it?”

“Maybe, if we’ve got this one in our database.” 

“All right, Tosh, see what you can do. Maybe that will give us a clue what we’re growing here.”

“Maybe.” Tosh looked around at the greenery again, stopping in front of the wall of orchids, with their long trails of spotted flowers in purples and whites and yellows. “This place is a bit magic though, isn’t it? Give a plant the right kind of light and soil and water, and they produce these amazing blooms.” 

“Sometimes you’re positively sentimental, Tosh.” Owen cocked a half-smile in her direction, and at times like these, Tosh didn’t know whether he was poking fun at her, or appreciative of her optimism. The thing was, Owen himself didn’t know either. 

\---

Jack had been sitting alone in his office, not really doing much for most of the day. No one had wanted to disturb him, and he knew he should go talk to them, maybe apologize, but couldn’t bring himself to. 

“Captain.” Ianto limped in the doorway, smiling down. 

“Already?” Jack checked his watch, and stood up from his desk. His knees twinged at the movement, after long hours of sitting over paperwork. 

“Only if you’re ready, sir.” 

“Oh yeah.” He hadn’t really touched the paperwork. He was long ready to go.

Jack let Ianto shrug on his greatcoat over his shoulders, even though Ianto’s shoulder was weak and he was clearly struggling to lift it. And Jack’s body seemed to drag even more than usual under the heavy weight of the wool. For once he wished he could leave it behind, but it wouldn’t do. That would just prove everything Owen had been saying. 

“Oh, before I forget,” Jack said, going over to his desk. “Got something for you.” He lifted the small leather box, brushed his fingertips across it, and held it out to Ianto. “Consider it a get-well gift.”

Ianto looked uncertain. “You didn’t have to do this.” He flipped it open and stared at its contents. Jack felt butterflies in his belly—not unlike the swarm of flies he’d coughed up seven days before—as Ianto lifted the chain with pale, trembling fingers. 

“It’s not a tracker, is it? You’re not trying to collar me, or—?” Ianto met his eyes, suspicious. The stainless steel chain dangled in his hand. It was embedded with small blue-black gems that absorbed the light. 

“Trust me,” Jack laughed. “Nothing like that. It’s alien tech. Protective. Like a force field.”

“You’re giving me jewelry now,” Ianto stared down at the chain in his fingers as if he hadn’t really heard. “Because you feel guilty about the accident.”

“Like I said. Protective. Not sentimental.” Jack picked the chain out of his hand. “May I?”

“Yes, of course.” 

Jack moved around his body, lifting the chain around his neck, comforted by the closeness. “I just want you safe.” As he fastened the chain around Ianto’s throat, his fingers felt fat and unwieldy. His knuckles were swollen. 

Ianto turned around, his fingers grazing the chain at his throat. “Thank you, sir.”

“You’re welcome, soldier. And it does look good on you.” Jack let his hand slide down to Ianto’s hips, squeezing lightly. 

Ianto looked around. “I’m driving, tonight.” He bent over to pick up the cane he’d been leaning on the past week.

“Leave that,” Jack asked. 

Ianto hesitated a moment, then obeyed. Jack was grateful his power of command hadn’t deserted him, at least. And when he held out his arm, Ianto took it. They leaned on each other, both unsteady, as they walked out the door. 

“Have a lovely time!” Gwen flashed a smile at them—a curious smile. 

Owen seemed to be stabbing at the alien tentacle now, but he looked up too. “Guess we can all go home early then.”

“Be back by midnight!” Toshiko called.

“No promises. Go home, all of you.” Jack smiled at his team. They had all their tongues, even when both Jack and Ianto had been limping and useless for a whole week. He was grateful.

Enclosed in the elevator, Jack stood stiffly, conscious of Ianto’s body heat at his side. He’d watched Ianto struggle with a limp and choke back painkillers every few hours. But they had still been trying to pretend it was all normal. 

As the lift began to rise, Jack pressed a soft kiss onto Ianto’s ear. Ianto’s arm snaked around and pulled him close, flicking a wet tongue against Jack’s lips. 

But Ianto smelled different to him, now. Jack pulled away. “More later?” 

Ianto had flushed, his voice low and edgy. “Please.”

Jack swallowed down his guilt. In the next forty minutes over dinner, he had to find his libido, or the courage to explain why he’d been keeping his distance. He already knew there was nothing to say. Ianto was the most observant person he knew. So Jack just gripped his arm and kept them as upright as possible as they limped across the Plass.

TBC


	3. The Space Between

_“The space between the wicked lies we tell, and hope to keep safe from the pain… Will I hold you again?”  
—Dave Matthews_

 

“Well, Captain and Tea Boy are in each other’s hands,” Owen said, wiping his hands off. “I’m knocking off then.”

“Fine, Owen,” Gwen called. 

Toshiko came over to her side. “You’re not still looking at that.” 

“See here,” said Gwen, “I found something! There’s this flash of light, see.” 

“Really?” They watched it again, frame by frame. It was a grainy, dark video. There was the black spot of the car and its white headlights and the shining river of the freeway in the rain. 

“Look.” Gwen pointed to a white speck in the sky above the headlights. It disappeared, then a few frames later the car was enveloped in the light. It just seemed like the camera had a moment of static, just a white screen with black at the edges. And then Jack was swerving off the road, into the mess they had found him in. 

“That’s something, isn’t it?” Gwen asked. 

Owen had come over to look too and asked, “Tosh, did you pick up any odd signals or rift activity at the site?” 

“No rift activity, remember?” Tosh said, “But there was one off pulse, just a blip. I didn’t think it meant anything, just standard deviation.” 

“Can we analyze this? Get a sense what’s in this flash?” asked Owen.

“This image isn’t good enough,” Gwen said, “This is the only record we have, isn’t it?”

“Right,” Toshiko agreed, “we’d have to use spectrometry to break down the material composition or radiation.”

Owen sighed. “Then I don’t know what we can do with this.”

“If I can map the pulse I found to the exact moment though,” Tosh said. “They’re likely linked. It could have zapped the car and thrown off the steering.” 

“Or it could have zapped Jack,” Owen said grimly. “If there was some chemical or radiation that could affect his healing, could explain why his body is producing antibodies I can’t recognize.”

“Or maybe this flash was something landing here, that had some alien bacteria or disease?” Tosh suggested. “Knocked them unconscious or infected them?”

“We need to warn him,” Gwen said. “What if it’s contagious?”

“I doubt it,” Owen muttered. “More likely, he’s got some auto-immune disease from this exposure to radiation. Possibly cancerous tissue, some antibody response. Where he used to heal himself, now he’s degrading.”

“What about Ianto?” Tosh and Gwen exchanged looks. “He would have been exposed too.” 

 

\--- 

To anyone watching, they could just be two mates, having dinner. But Ianto recognizes that look in Jack’s eye—even around the unresponsive muscles, and the slight twitch that’s still around his mouth. Tonight, Jack is going to take him home and fuck him silly. 

Still, something’s not quite right. Jack’s been strangely shy. When Jack’s knee brushes his under the table, Ianto stretches out his leg, brushing up further against his Captain. Jack stares firmly at his meal, instead of licking his fork or returning a flirty look. In response, Ianto finds himself awkward. Nervous.

They’ve just started on the appetizer, an onion soup, when Jack pauses with a spoon halfway to his face, his mouth open in a soft O of pleasure. 

At first, Ianto laughs. With half a bottle of French wine warming his stomach, he’s ready to relax. Jack’s pose is theatrical, hot, and Ianto feels a shiver in his stomach. They’ve made it through everything the universe could throw at them, even as mundane as a car crash. And they’re still here, together. Whatever guilt or regret is left, it’s past time to let it go.

But Jack’s still frozen, and belatedly, Ianto realizes it’s no joke. Jack’s crisp, white shirt sticks out at the collar, and he’s gotten a spot of some red sauce splattered across his wrist. His half-smile is frozen in place, the small muscles around his mouth are rigid. 

Jack’s been clumsy lately, and now something in his life line has gone frayed and he’s stuck. Ianto flashes back to the week before in the hospital, when he’d woken up to Jack hovering nearby, half his face blank, and the other half twisted with some kind of guilt or sorrow. 

Panicked, Ianto turns to get help, and finds that the rest of the restaurant is paused, too. Around him, the waiters are poised with platters with food and drinks. The concierge is standing mid-smile, greeting an important-looking man in a suit, whose hand is protectively on his young daughter’s back. 

Ianto takes a shaky breath. The silence seeps in his buzzing veins. Is the world frozen? Or has everything slowed down? Maybe he’s losing consciousness. His body’s been messed up too, since the accident. 

A plump woman is staring wistfully at the wall clock, while the chair across from her sits empty. The clock’s hands are no longer moving. It’s 7:23 and 36 seconds.

Ianto feels a pressure around his neck, and a hum in his ears, and clutches at the burning chain at his throat. He stumbles to his feet and turns around carefully. Behind him, under his feet, there’s a mouse, hovering in mid-scamper across the floor by the kitchen entrance. As it is, Ianto squats down and peers at the little creature hanging in the balance of air, three centimeters off the ground. The health department wouldn’t be too pleased.

“Curiouser and curiouser,” he mumbles. 

He turns back to Jack and then he sees another man sitting across from the Captain. Jack’s tossing this stranger a shamelessly flirtatious look, and the bloke’s responding, his cheeks rosy, his lips turned up in a dopey smile of his own. 

For a moment Ianto’s jealous, until he realizes the other man is himself. 

Reaching forward, Ianto pushes at Jack’s shoulder. “Captain?” Jack still feels warm. He budges, slightly shifting under Ianto’s hand, but he remains sitting, anchored in place. 

“Jack! Please.” Ianto lowers himself, pressing his mouth, a kiss into Jack’s hair, feeling it crunch a little with the pomade. At least it still smells like him, even though he’s smelled sick since the accident. “Wake up,” he whispers. “Come back to me.” 

\---

 

Gwen stood out on the Plass looking at the cloudy sky and the lights shining from the shops. She tapped her foot as the phone rang. 

“Heya Gwen.” Andy’s voice was tired on the other end of the line. 

“Any news?” Gwen said sweetly, into the phone although she could already hear PC Andy rolling his eyes.

“Nothing doing,” he said. “You’re not looking for a favor are you? Just there’s this program on the BBC I was going to watch tonight—”

“No,” she interrupted, not interested in his telly habits. “Just wondered, have you seen anything unusual lately? Especially odd car accidents, people in hospitals that aren’t healing, you know the like?”

“Oi, this has to do with Captain Fancy Pants’ accident, does it?” 

Gwen sighed. She wished he didn’t have to make fun of Jack like that. “Maybe, or anything we should know about?”

“Can’t say that I have. Only, there have been more than usual odd UFO reports.” 

“Really?” 

“No, I’m putting you on.”

“Knew I could count on you.” Gwen said. 

“There was a funny story though,” he added. “Old man passed away yesterday from a heart attack. His neighbor had called in he was acting barmy. PC Meghan went to his house, found him unconscious. Had all these strange artifacts, apparently claimed were alien. One of those hoarder types?”

“If we had a quid for every claim of something alien—” Gwen started.  
“I know, that’s why I didn’t call you. But, since you’ve asked, the toxicology report today says he’s been poisoned by something they can’t identify.”

“Okay,” Gwen shrugged. 

“And, they said he did have some unusual things in his house, and was growing all kinds of odd plants. Even some giant alien beanstalk in the backyard.” 

“Don’t suppose he has an alien goose,” Gwen said, “Are they really alien though?” 

“Not likely. But apparently people have been complaining he owes them goods, some of these spooky artifacts. Could be something here under exhibit if you want to look. And more in his home.” 

It wasn’t much, but could be a lead, Gwen thought. “Can you get me the name and residence?” 

“I’ll text you. His house is empty. Go anytime, just expect some meddling neighbors. Slightly suburban, pensioner’s neighborhood, you know the type. Everyone up in each other’s business.”

“Thanks Andy,” Gwen said. He really did try to help, even if most of these leads were pretty thin. 

“Gotta go now, catch my program,” Andy said. 

Gwen was glad he was finally setting some limits, ringing off to do something he liked. At least tonight she could afford to be generous about it, since she didn’t need him to help her with anything further. 

Just one more call, while she waited for the text to come in. “Rhys.”

“Hey lover. You in tonight?”

“Soon, I will,” she said, “Just have to check out a lead first. It’s on the way.”

“I’ll put dinner on, then.”

She hardly said goodbye. Something bright in the sky was flashing toward her. She started and took a step forward, but didn’t have a chance to finish her sentence.

 

\---

Toshiko can feel a rift alarm, but it hasn’t quite gone off. There’s a buzzing in her head like the surprise you get when someone calls your name suddenly and loudly, when you thought you were alone.

And then everything’s still. She was poised on one leg, half stretching and now she’s hovering there. Time’s stopped and she’s not aware of any of this anymore.

Even the water always bubbling down the fountain is still, until Ianto comes in. He can’t get the cog door to open, so he has to go around the back way by Jack’s office and take the stairs down. It takes extra time, but maybe takes no time at all. 

“Gwen? Owen?” His voice doesn’t echo the way it should in the Hub. Then he sees Toshiko, poised with her mouth partly open, her posture slightly careless, the neckline of her shirt slipping off her shoulder. She’s beautiful and eerie. “Tosh,” he pauses, looking at her. 

He’d hoped madly that Torchwood would be still active, protected by its proximity to the Rift, but it’s clear whatever is wrong, it’s wrong here too. Perhaps they’re at the epicenter of something major happening, or perhaps outside the walls of Cardiff and the reach of the rift, time’s still flowing on like normal. 

What will happen when time catches up? Will they be stuck behind everyone else on the planet? Will everything fall into motion again and trip over itself, with car accidents, and people falling down, and chaos? Or will everyone simply step into the next moment, with no awareness of this silent interval?

Ianto looks around, for some clue to grasp hold of. Toshiko’s screen shows a translation from some alien scrawl. It says, “My treasure,” And under that, “Granary.” On Tosh’s desk, a small infrared scanner shines on a small envelope, and there’s a box beside it with several small packages just the same. They’re each etched with some foreign script. 

Some shadow flashes behind him and he spins around, seeing nothing. Looking right, looking left, he scans the room and takes in their desks, Gwen’s files, Toshiko’s electronics projects, and his own kitchen area piled with dishes to be washed. It’s all normal. There’s no one there.

Down in the medical bay, Owen is poised over his desk. He has tanks prepared, and Ianto runs down the stairs to peer over his shoulder. Owen’s examining some scans showing long lines of chemical coding that Ianto can’t interpret. Over the top in capital letters, he reads, “Ianto Jones.” And beside it, a second scan labeled “Harkness.” 

Then there’s another darkness at the corner of his eye. Above, the rafters are empty with no sign of Myfanwy. Ianto goes upstairs again. The Rift resonator at least is active, still humming and swarming with the energy of the vortex. Time is out there, waiting, pulsing, yet it can’t get in.

Upstairs, lights flash in the greenhouse. “Hello?” he calls, but there’s no reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As i was poking around the Internet while researching / procrastinating for this story, I found that this Aliens flower, sold on ebay, looks like the Yip yip aliens from sesame street. For your amusement:
> 
> https://www.ebay.com/itm/Calceolaria-uniflora-seeds-Aliens-Flower-seeds-Garden-DIY-Bonsai-Exotic-Plant-Fl/153070679205?hash=item23a3b934a5:g:214AAOSwQctbLDGy:rk:7:pf:0
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TStPNqex3uA


	4. Out of Phase

The soup doesn’t quite reach Jack’s mouth.

He knows he’s spilled. He looks down at himself, ready to pick up a napkin and laugh it off, but how long can that go on? When will he have to confess how clumsy he’s become? How it’s all his fault and he should have been driving more carefully? He really owes Ianto an apology.

But there’s no splash, no mess, and Ianto’s just watching him, still half smiling. 

Jack glances around and realizes. It’s not just him. The whole restaurant is paralyzed. In a booth, one man’s arm is raised in a storytelling gesture. There’s a woman holding her phone with her mouth half-open, half-way through saying something. 

In the kitchen, a cook is throwing pizza dough in the air. It hovers in a cloud of flour.

His knee has been twinging, so he stands and steps out of the booth cautiously. He looks back, only to see himself, still sitting there across from Ianto. His own face is grinning --with those cheekbones—they do look good! His spoon’s halfway to his mouth. He hasn’t spilled after all. He’s just somehow dissociated. 

He marvels at the pair of them. They look happy, despite what they’ve been through. For the first time in a week, he thinks that if the world returns back to action, maybe they’ll make it work. After all, he’s not the first person to get into an accident and come back disabled. 

And Ianto is nothing if not loyal and patient. Perhaps it’s a blessing in disguise. Perhaps Jack is mortal now. Perhaps he’s normal. They could live their lives, together.

Jack reaches out, the back of his knuckles against Ianto’s cheek, and he half expects his fingers to slip through. He connects with soft skin, stroking a line down Ianto’s neck—Jack’s not a ghost, not disembodied—his fingers brush the silk at Ianto’s hairline. “Can you hear me? Ianto?” 

There’s no response. Jack turns back around, plucks a bacon-wrapped date off the plate from the next table and sucks it into his mouth. It’s delicious. He can still interact with reality, and his body still works. 

A look in the kitchen tells him even the gas stove’s lost its flame, although the chandeliers over each table are still glowing. If electricity is a constant transmission of electrons, and it takes a filament burning to produce light, then time is still working to some degree. Jack ponders this paradox and turns back.

“Wake up. Ianto.” He shakes the young man’s shoulder. The chain around Ianto’s collarbone sparkles. It’s warm to the touch. Jack caresses those stones, and Ianto’s throat, considering him, but it’s no use. He's stilled, like everything.

Jack turns away with a deep sigh, and leaves the building. Outside, he moves by instinct, smelling the icy air, seeing lights play from nearby restaurants and shops, feeling his feet respond as he walks down the street. He puts one foot before the other, fluid and strong. He’s not limping. His body’s working again, properly, and it’s puzzling.

There’s a glow of lights around him from neon signs and lamp posts. But no soft rain is falling, no cars roar by, no people talk in the streets. The hair of his neck stands on end. “Hello?” he bellows. “Anyone? Can anyone hear me?”

He listens, but not even the wind answers him. If time had stopped-- really stopped-- wouldn’t everything go frozen cold? Wouldn’t the excitation of particles cease entirely? Or is everyone stuck in the same microsecond, one that just keeps looping? 

He flips open his wrist strap and opens the universal clock. It’s been 7:23 for a while now but the seconds read 29 28 30 27 29 28 26 24 30 27 23 29 25 22…. It's stuck in multiple countdowns, looping. Something locally’s gone haywire. 

“What are you up to?” he questions the sky. Jack looks around, and spots a way to the roof, where he can get a better look out on the city and the roads. He runs up, taking the stairs two at a time, pushing his way through the door. On the open roof, he peers out over the city. 

Trucks stand on the freeway. Airplanes wait in the sky. Even the waves of the bay are peaking and silent with white crests on the black water. Dogs are still at the end of their leashes.

The entire city hangs in the balance between clicks of time, like dollhouses or toy train yards. It’s all mad. There’s a certain beauty in stillness, yet it’s eerie, like the morning on a battle field after a war when all the soldiers around him are dead, and he’s the zombie that woke up again. 

Is he stuck between moments because of his condition, truly a fixed point, fixed in a point? Or is there some curse, some force acting on the city, and he’s the only one with immunity because he's fixed? He can’t make sense of it, so he keeps moving. Jack shivers and rushes back downstairs to shake off the sudden panic. No matter how complicated things have gotten, he wishes Ianto were by his side. 

\--- 

“You’ve always been good to me, Tosh,” Ianto says. He’s standing beside her even though she’s still frozen. “And you’d know what to do. I wish you’d wake up." She doesn't answer of course. "You’re beautiful. This is all a bit creepy. Am I being creepy?” 

He's rambling now. It’s strange to study someone this way, so close, without them knowing. It’s like watching someone asleep. It’s like being completely intimate. Her sweater is about to drop over the edge of her shoulder and he wants to set it right. He doesn't, because it would seem wrong, touching her now. 

He hearsa rumbling or rushing of water, or the slide of a chair on the concrete floor. It's like a voice, “We must…”

“What?” Ianto starts and looks around. Nothing’s changed. Then he hears the sounds again, slowly forming into words in his head. 

“It’s got to be here somewhere.”

“What is? Who’s there?” The lights of the Hub are dim, humming fluorescent, flickering more than usual. 

He swears there’s something there but sees nothing. Maybe there’s a blind spot in his vision, like he’s looking around the thing.

Perception filter. That’s what Jack would call it. He looks around, focusing, concentrating. 

But he can still hear them now, indistinct voices, garbled as if heard through water. ”I’m following the signal.” Another voice, irritated.

He’d swear they’re bickering. One voice sounds higher pitched. Ianto takes a few steps, moving toward the edge of the room, toward his coffee station. It's a bit like the Hide and Seek games with Jack, only it's sinister. Like he's really being hunted. 

“What will we do if we can’t find it?”

“Hello?” Ianto says again. He grabs something with a long handle as a weapon. “I can hear you. Show yourselves.”

They’ve heard him. “Come here, we’re looking for you!”

His heart pounding, Ianto launches himself back toward the center of the room. He'll feel safer next to Toshikio. “Wake up, won’t you?” he whispers at her, touching her elbow, while looking around the whole time. Her shoulder is cold, or is it his hands? For all he knows, he’s the one haunting the Hub.

“Stray signal,” he hears the voice. Something flashes on Toshiko's screen. 

The shadow behind him is bigger. He turns and sees it now, a large creature emitting its own light from his neck and shoulders. There’s a glow infusing its fat cheeks, and a wiry mane of hair shaking above them. Its body is ponderously fat.

“It’s here, look!” Says one of the voices.

“Hmmm,” The creature nods, staring at Ianto, who wishes desperately he had some more dangerous weapon than the large spoon he’d managed to grab hold of. 

 

\---

Squatting right there on cobblestones in front of the Millenium Centre is a giant shadow that takes Jack’s breath away. He's not certain at first, but when he runs up to it, there’s nothing else it could be. He smirks at the space ship sitting there for all to see. “And who are you?!” 

The hull is smooth, foreign metal, banged up a little with its shielding down. It’s sleek but primitive, nothing like the high-tech ship he first piloted to Earth. This is some luxury family sedan, a weekend sports craft, reliable but still fun to show off and big enough to take the kids along. It’s probably come from a long ways away, but definitely this era. 

He circles around it, looking for identifying marks. When he finds them molded in the side of the craft, he can’t read them anyway. 

“Anyone home?” he looks around for the entrance, a small step etched in the side, and feels his way to a latch. He’s sure he’s on the right place, but it doesn’t respond to his touch. It probably doesn’t recognize his species or his thermal range.

Right then. Time for a scan.

He steps back down and nearly runs into her –- Gwen Cooper, stopped right there in the middle of the road like she’s about to run into the ship. “Hey,” he says, “Where were you going?” But she’s frozen, like all the others. 

He frowns, and flips open his wrist strap. There’s one life form aboard, but the ship itself comes from an intergalactic hub that’s very well-traveled, and it could be any number of species, ranging from those who might mate with humans, to those that might snack on them without a second thought. 

Judging by its size, at least they're not the type to stomp on you without noticing. “So that’s good,” Jack murmurs, then he sighs, and turns to go in the Hub. At the very least, he’ll need some equipment to get a better reading on this thing and if he's lucky, maybe the Rift will have secured the Hub a little better than the rest of Cardiff.

\--

“I’m Ianto.” His hands are in the air to show he means no harm. The intruder cocks its head, wiry hair jumping, and slithers a bit toward him. But it looks past him, over his shoulder. Ianto turns to see another one. He’s surrounded. 

The green one, in front of him, has a large striated stomach. It’s wearing only some type of small cape, and it doesn’t walk toward him as much as slither or waddle on long, fat feet that are hinged more like a horse than human. 

The one behind him is pink-red, her torso jiggling in a way Jack might find sexy, her tongue peeking out of her mouth in a way that he finds charming somehow. She’s reaching for the artifact Toshiko’s examining. 

“The readings, the signal,” she hums, and the box glows under her touch. “This is our treasure.”

“What do you mean?” Ianto asks.

The green one hums again, still looking at Ianto. “Does it translate?”

“Protecting the Earth from alien threats,” the red one is reading from her own screen now, a box in her hands, like a fat iPad. 

“It doesn’t look like a soldier,” the green one says, peering in at Ianto as if it might sniff him up in its snout.

“What do you want?” Ianto asks, trying to sound fearless. He wishes Jack were here to take over this conversation. 

“Treasure, our family treasure,” it murmurs, sniffing him and then howling in a way that Ianto thinks could be a threat, or just a sneeze. He’s covered in slime, a bit, which is also glowing. 

For all the alien hunting and artifact collecting that Torchwood does, he’s very rarely come so face to face with actual real live alien species. Ianto hopes he looks authoritative and worldly—er, intergalactic?-- and not like he’s about to pee his pants.

“This is your treasure?” he tries to focus, puzzled. The little packets in the plain box look like a practical set of files, but not like gold or any shining metals or advanced technology. He’d thought they were seeds.

The red alien is turning over the packets in its paws as if similarly confused, and the green alien comes toward him, but reaches for the packets. Ianto backs away, running into Tosh, and holding her body upright. 

“How can you be moving?” he asks them. “Why is everyone else stuck?”

That’s when they turn to look at him, and he regrets opening his mouth. “Why isn’t it frozen?” one of them asks.

“The Rift,” says the other.

“No,” the green one comes near, and reaches out to him. “It has a signal blocker.” It reaches for his neck, but carefully. It only has two fingers and a fat thumb. Ianto screws his eyes shut. 

He feels a cold, wet finger along his throat. It’s where Jack’s necklace sits. So he opens his eyes and suddenly understands why he’s been spared. “What is it? What’s it made of?”

“Hmmm. Core of a dead planet. You do not know?”

“It was a gift. An apology.”

“No, hmmmm.” says the creature, it's voice raspy like a blender. “It is a stabilizer.” 

“Like a rewind,” the other says.

“What do you mean, rewind? Is time heading backwards?” Ianto asks. “Are we going to the past?”

“No, like Undo buttons.”

While Ianto puzzles on this, the red one peers at its signal box. “Incoming,” it’s muttering. “The Fixed Point is drawing near.”

Ianto spins around. But Tosh is still frozen, and he’s alone with the aliens. One of them, the green one, is still hovering near him and suddenly seems far more interested in his existence than he’s comfortable with, leaning forward to sniff him and peer into his face. He steps away, he’s sticky enough already after they oozed on him before, thank you.

"Who are you?" he asks.

“Hmmm. You know of our Auntie’s treasure?” it's holding the box aloft. 

“No,” Ianto shakes his head. “I thought they were seeds.”

“Hmm.” It seems to like humming, and its glow fades a bit as it turns to its friend. “Embryonics.”

The red creature opens a packet, pawing the seeds inside. It turns its head about, reminding Ianto now of an owl. “Mayhaps what our worlds need after the great storm. If Dunsripper could have their fingers here, wouldn’t they love the monopoly?”

“Huh?” Ianto says. “Hey, follow me, come on.” He gets their attention, then leads them upstairs to the greenhouse. Maybe if they can see the plants, they will see what they’re holding. After a hesitation, they follow him upward, still holding the box. 

Owen has specifically forbidden him from messing with the seedlings, but he leads the creatures to the trays where they're sprouting. Then he points and gestures at the seeds in their hands, showing them. “We’re trying to grow them.”

One emits a cry, and some gesturing follows, and he has no idea what they could be saying but it seems heated, like an argument. 

“We found them abandoned,” he tries to explain. He wonders if he should lock them in the greenhouse, but he wants to hear more what they have to say.

“Auntie hid them,” one is explaining. “She was running, or traveling. They’re marked with our sign.” 

As her palm hovers over the box, its top seems to light up. Small filaments of light flash out from the lettering, as if the letters are lit from within the box, but that's impossible. Her face seems to glow, smiling while concentrating, and her palm glows with the same orange hue as the lettering on the box, as if she's activating it. Ianto squints over at the seedlings. Surprised, he sees that some of the veins of the plants seem to glow with a bright light as well. 

“You’re bioluminescent,” Ianto says to the aliens.

“You’re very dark.” They peer at him, wobbling their heads as if curious. Or maybe they're laughing at him. 

“Don’t hear that a lot,” Ianto says. “Considered quite pale here, actually.”

“It is emotion,” one says, and they demonstrate by touching hands, which makes their faces and palms glow more strongly. So, he surmises, their moods show through in the light their bodies produce and the strange shine of the ooze on their skin.

“Must make intimacy quite interesting?” Ianto says, then colors. “I mean, that’s quite a trick. See why you’d need to hide.” 

“We will take these,” one says.

Something changes in the Hub then, and he can feel it – a warmth, another presence, and it feels familiar. “What’s that?” Ianto turns and looks out the door toward the Hub. 

"Hmmm."

He gestures to the aliens, and they simply follow him downstairs. Owen’s still hovered over his scans, Tosh is still peering at her computer, but the light’s changed again, and he can feel something. 

“It’s shifting,” one says.

“What have you done?” he says to the aliens, “Please tell me. How's everything frozen?"

“Protection,” says one. 

“We protect the earth, we protect ourselves from you,” the other says.

“Our family hid treasure, but we thought—”

“We thought it was value.”

“But no, this is not money. Our aunt’s legacy will not pay the debt.”

They're each talking over each other so fast, Ianto doesn’t know which is speaking any longer. He can barely cut in with a question. “But did you freeze time? Can you undo it?”

“It’s coming,” says the alien, and they both seem to brace themselves and stare out toward the Rift device in the center of the Hub.

"But who are you?" Ianto can't help following their gaze. He looks over, feeling a sinking feeling in his stomach. What’s coming? The Rift has thrown so many things at them, he's not sure he can be surprised anymore, but he is definitely feeling on edge. As if two aliens in the Hub weren't bad enough...

Suddenly there’s a pop. Out of nowhere, Captain Jack emerges, his coat flapping, stepping forward with his broad stroll. He’s larger than life, eyes piercing, face determined. 

“Oh god,” says Ianto, and not for the first time, he feels absolutely terrified of the man.   
=


	5. Promises to keep

“You’re here!” Jack barrels toward him, shaking Ianto’s shoulders and wrapping his arms around him, in a big muscular bear hug, then just as quickly, pushes him backward, taking a better look at him.

“Jack, you’re awake.” Ianto catches his breath, clutching Jack’s upper arms. “Is it you?”

“You’re all right?” They stare at each other, neither quite trusting the other, but grinning madly to see each other. 

“Where did you come from?” Ianto asks, still half afraid the man’s a fake or a malicious version of the Captain he knows. 

“What’s going on?” Jack asks in return. He turns to see Toshiko teetering at the edge of her desk and looks around the Hub like he doesn’t see anything else amiss. “So the time lock affected the Hub, too.” He whistles. 

The aliens are still leaning on the table. “Out of phase!” one hisses.

“Out of phase,” the other says, agreeing. 

Jack whirls around to stare at the computer screen, uncomprehending. “What is that!” the Captain asks, startled by the words flying across the computer screen. Ianto realizes the translation program that Toshiko was running must have been translating this whole time. That’s how he could understand the creatures, maybe why he was only catching a few words when they were upstairs. 

He looks between Jack and the aliens. “I’m not sure who they are, but they aren’t dangerous.” 

“Who?” Jack stares at him, and Ianto’s baffled a moment until he realizes Jack apparently can’t see their visitors. 

“They’re right here,” he says, “I met some blokes.” 

“Did you now?” There’s the old Jack Harkness, half-full of double entendre, and Ianto’s indescribably relieved to hear that tone of voice. For a week now, Jack’s been struggling, edgy and trying to hide it, but now of all times his voice has regained its levity. 

“Aliens,” Ianto hisses. “They’re right there?” 

Jack frowns, flips open his wrist watch and scans the room, at the same time the red alien flips open her screen and taps something. Both of them flash, and jump and then stare at each other.

“Another one!” says one of the aliens. “It’s the tracer.”

“Well hello!” says Jack. He stares, then looks at Ianto, then turns back to staring. 

“How did you get here?” Jack said. “Our base is secured.”

Ianto half expects them to fall in each other’s arms like old friends or attack each other, but mostly they just continue to stare.

“You’re human,” the red one peers forward, its eyes squinting and its snout screwing up to sniff at him. “That is unexpected.” It cocks its head and pauses, “Your base is not secure.”

“I’m Captain Jack Harkness,” says Jack, drawing himself up to full height, which is still a couple heads shorter than their new visitors. “Welcome to Torchwood.”

They don’t seem impressed. “He is a human rift?” one says, head inclined toward the other.

The one with the scanner is looking at its readouts. “He is dense as the rift. Denser.”

“Hey guys,” Jack chuckles uncomfortably, “Where are you from, and what’s this all about then?”

“Hmm,” the green one nods. “You threw off our signal.”

“You confused my instrument,” the other chides. They don’t seem like they’re in any hurry, either to explain or get going. 

“Your instrument?” Jack asks, sounding angry rather than confused. “You haven’t answered my questions.”

“You must be a fixed point.”

The other one is impressed by this at least. “You are a miracle of science.” It leans in sniffing the air a little, its eyes starting to glow. That, Ianto thinks, is terribly eerie.

“Well yeah,” Jack stands a little straighter, preening. “I’m a miracle all right.”

“Oh brother,” Ianto says. For once, can’t Jack leave his ego out of this exchange?

“We should take you with us.” The red creature declares. 

“Our teacher would love to examine it!”

“Wait no! Boys, down boys!” Jack exclaims. “I’ve been examined before. And while I can’t argue some types of exams are thoroughly pleasant, it sounds like you’re talking about the other kind. And uh, I have some things here to take care of, so I’ll have to decline your invitation.”

“Decline?” They peer at each other, the aliens, not translating the word. “Could he be valuable?” 

“Could he pay off Auntie’s debts?”

“No,” Jack says firmly.

“He’s mine,” Ianto breaks in. Then he realizes what he’s said, and looks at Jack, who for the moment seems to have lost interest in the aliens completely and just looks back at him.

“Wow.” To his relief, Jack looks amused rather than angry.

“Yeah,” says Ianto, reaching out and taking Jack’s elbow. Jack half smirks, takes a step toward him, till their coats are touching. “Is that ok with you?”

Jack doesn’t answer, maybe because the red alien has put its scanner down, sliding forward on its sluggy tail, waddling its little feet, and comes closer. It sticks out its head toward Jack as if to sniff him. 

The Captain leans back, avoiding the long tentacle tongue of the red beast, and reaches out his right hand to both block the gesture and offer something like a handshake in greeting. Ianto resists the urge to run in front and protect him. Jack Harkness can take care of himself, if anyone could. “Happy to help,” Jack says. “Uh…can’t we do that without kidnapping me offworld?”

“It doesn’t smell like a miracle.”

The other creature nearby looks at them, “The sound is still strong.”

“Still fixed.” It squints at him again. 

A soft beeping hums from the red one’s scanner device. “Ten mikulos till timeline resumption,” the creature translates

“Mind telling us how that works, freezing time?” Jack asks. “I’m assuming you did this?”

“You will rephase,” the alien answers in monotone. 

“Only, I don’t want to leave my friends in this state,” Jack continues, “but what happens to us then?”

“Hmmm. Unconcerned.”

“Jack,” Ianto interjects. “They’re here to look for something. They said it was the seeds that Owen was growing.” 

“Who are you then?” Jack askes them. “I didn’t catch your names.”

One of the aliens slides forward. “Our Uncle will be a slave to pay our father’s debts. They are gone.” 

“Your parents died?” Jack interprets, “And those seeds are what? Worth something? Why?”

“We thought, if we run to find Auntie’s treasure, we are heroes.” It cocks its head. “These are only seeds. Not expected.”

“We’ll have to take you instead,” says the other. The creature sounds more mournful than threatening.

“Sad story,” Jack says, “But I’m not going anywhere.” The gentle beeping out of the red one’s device interrupts him. He looks at Ianto. 

Ianto blinks out, and time fizzes and. . .


	6. Chapter 6

And then, Jack was spilling soup down the front of his shirt. The spoon clatters on the table as he’s dropped in. Ianto is sitting across from him, his look turning from one of quiet amusement to horror. 

“Time’s reset,” Ianto was saying.

“We’ve got to secure the Hub,” Jack said, grabbing a napkin and patting down his shirt.

And they both stumbled out of the booth, suddenly holding on to one another and realizing that all this time, they had been moving without restriction, easily in their bodies, but now the muscle cramps and injuries were back. 

“You okay?” Jack huffed out his annoyance, reaching his arm around Ianto’s shoulders to steady him as he groaned. 

“Think so. Just slow.” 

“Come on.” 

They turned to go, as the waiter passed them. “You leaving?”

“Duty calls!” Jack called behind him, though he couldn’t exit as smoothly as he would have liked. 

“You still must pay!” The man yelled behind him. 

“Later,” Jack shouted, an edge in his voice. “Promise!”

Ianto, leaning against him, noticed the mouse he’d seen before scampering away through the restaurant.

\--

Gasping for air, Toshiko gripped the desk in front of her. She had been scanning the label of the seed box, confirming their hypothesis that the seeds were agricultural food crops. Now she was dizzy and struggling to stand upright. Her head was thrumming, and she thought she was imagining voices. She thought she must have released some alien toxin that she'd breathed in, and now she was in trouble. “Owen!” she called. “Owen!”

“Tosh!” he called out, “Are you alright?”

She turned, found her footing, and also found herself face to face with an orange creature. “What is that!”

Was she hallucinating? It stood, head to toe, not much larger than an average human, but its face was oddly thin and its belly oddly fat. It had a wiry head of hair, and short little arms and legs, dwarfed by the large stubby tail sticking out behind it that reminded her of a slimy kangaroo. Its belly was extended, giving it a look of leaning backward. 

And next to it was a green one, same species, with an even chubbier belly and a glowing face. “Hmmmm,” it said, peering at her.

“Yep,” Owen said, from behind it, “I’m seeing them too.” He pressed his fingers to his ear piece. “Jack, we have a security breach.”

“On our way,” Jack was in his ear, “We know.”

"You do?" asked Owen. “Well, better in here and contained, than out on the docks, eh Tosh?”

“How did you get in?” she demanded of the aliens, “Who are you!?”

“We are of the Traxon,” hummed the red one, “I am Charry Karvally of the Zoilt clan.”

“My designation is Algarry, or Gar,” said the other. 

Tosh’s machine was humming behind her, translating. She had set it up to read the pamphlets, but she hadn’t expected to hear any aliens today.

“Ok Algarry-or-Gar, and Cherry,” she said, “What brings you to Earth?”

“Yeah and you’ve stumbled right into Torchwood,” Owen said, having picked up the closest weapon he could find, which turned out to be a long sushi knife he’d been using to slice the alien octopus earlier. “You know, hunting down alien threats, protecting the world?”

The Traxons squealed and their faces flashed with light. “If you wish a fight,” one lunged forward, buzzing toward Owen. “We can accommodate.”

Gary started to buzz and hiss, waddling toward Owen. It threw back its heads, and a loud gargling sound started. 

“He won’t hurt you!” Tosh called, but it was too late. Algarry was spitting its saliva in a dark ooze at Owen.

\---

“You coming?” Jack called.

Ianto had stopped short on the pavement outside of the SUV, unable to get in, while Jack was already strapped in the driver’s seat, in a hurry to get back to the Hub and check on the aliens invading the Hub.

“We have to go!” Jack called. “What’s your problem?”

Ianto sucked back the feeling of panic and got in. “You shouldn’t be driving.”

Jack didn’t answer, too busy gunning the engine and roaring off down the street. “I missed you.”

“What?” It wasn’t that Ianto hadn’t heard, but that he didn’t quite believe Jack had just said so.

“What do we now?” Jack said, his brain already moving on. “Assuming you saw what I did. Aliens in the Hub, unknown species, claiming that box of seeds as some kind of treasure.”

“Maybe they’ve gone.” Ianto reached over and squeezed Jack’s thigh, to reassure them both. He was less concerned about the aliens. They hadn’t seemed threatening, after all. It had almost been like they were trying to _explain…_

Jack’s hand covered Ianto’s, “So,” he said, “You’re mine?”

“I didn’t say that,” Ianto ducked his head. “I said, you’re mine.”

The look on Jack’s face was disbelief, and he wasn’t paying near enough attention to the road. "Don't be daft," Ianto looked at him and smiled, “Of course I am. Now, drive.” he looked pointedly forward out the windshield. 

Jack laughed and hit the accelerator. "I hope you're still up for sharing your toys."

"Always." Ianto rolled his eyes and grinned out the window. "You just can't help yourself, can you?"


	7. Chapter 7

Jack made jokes about Owen’s skinny ass, but Toshiko thought maybe there was something to that. If Owen ran a little more, maybe lifted weights a few times a week, maybe he could have been quicker to dodge the slime goo their visitor had sneezed all over him, and he wouldn’t have dropped the sharpest knife in the base and slashed his own thigh open.

“Did you have to provoke them?” Tosh yelled as the doctor collapsed in a moaning, pitiful pile on the floor.

“Might have been a tactical error,” Owen admitted. “Grab me a med kit, would you?”

“We will acquire the valuables.” The Traxon turned toward the stairs. 

“Wait!” Tosh called. “Hold up.” They didn’t respond, but navigated their way up the stairs, slowly, their tails dragging behind them. 

She turned to follow them, but Owen’s voice held her back. “I’m bleeding Tosh, for goodness sake.” 

“Owen, you're a doctor! Get your own bandages,” she called. "How can you be such a baby?”

“Don’t want them hurting you, too,” Owen protested. 

"We can’t let aliens wander loose in the Hub!" Tosh said. "If they wanted to hurt you, really hurt you, they could have."

“At least grab a stun gun.” 

Toshiko ignored him, running upstairs to catch up with the strange beasts that had appeared suddenly in front of them. “Hello?” She called, “Don’t want to hurt you, just want to talk!” She noticed the greenhouse door ajar, and a shadow flashing inside. 

“It’s just me, please,” Tosh said, walking in the door. “What are you doing?”

They were hovering by the seedling trays, petting the leaves of a stalk. 

“It’s grown! It was just two inches earlier today,” Tosh said. The plant seedlings had shot up maybe a foot in just the last few hours. They had several pairs of small yellow leaves, and a long red stalk with yellow striations. 

“Hmmm. Yes, it does this.” They tilted their heads to look at her, and one pulled a plug out of the tray to examine the little roots forming. Although they'd just started to emerge, the plug was tightly wound with roots, rootbound and ready for a bigger pot. 

“Do you know the plant? What do you use it for?” Toshiko asked. 

“It is shelter." The creature put the seedling carefully back in place and patted down the soil “We grow our home.”

“And food,” said the other.

“Like bamboo?” Tosh said, nodding. “It’s an earth plant that grows prolifically--very fast, and strong. We build houses or furniture, but you can also cook and eat the fresh shoots.” 

“Hmm,” they nodded. 

“But bamboo is a green plant,” Toshiko said, “Most plants on earth are green. Scientists think it’s because of our sun’s wavelengths, but on other planets they might be mostly red or yellow like these.” 

“Hmmmm,” they seemed puzzled by this, but said nothing else. 

“So, why have you come?”

The red one –- Charry -– held up the box that had held the seeds. She held up her palm and the box glowed. 

 

\--

 

Just because Jack didn’t see the space ship on the Plass any longer did not mean it wasn’t there or somewhere nearby. He was all too aware of altered perception or cloaking devices. Even aliens might move their space ship if they were trying to avoid a parking ticket, or curious humans.

“Gwen was here earlier,” he said, “We’ll split up.”

They climbed out of the SUV, leaving it parked haphazardly nearby, and went down to the back door, still leaning on each other. Once inside, Jack instructed, “Wait a bit before you barge in. I’ll listen. I want to evaluate the threat, maybe find a way to pack them out before they notice.”

“They didn’t attack before,” Ianto pointed out. “Why do you think that’s changed?”

Jack shook his head. “We don’t know what’s going on. Can’t make assumptions. They weren’t in a hurry. Maybe they had some other tricks up their sleeve like the time loop or whatever they shot us down with in the car last week.”

Ianto stilled Jack’s arm, before the Captain could turn around. He pulled out the chain from under his collar, feeling the warmth of his skin in its metal. “Jack, this chain, is that how I stayed awake?” 

He expected a quick yes, a smile, but Jack looked lost. “I don’t know. Maybe.” He still looked tired, part of his face yellowed in the light, half his mouth lost in a frown even when he tried to smile.

“We don’t have to barge in there,” Ianto suggested. “Owen and Tosh have got this. Shouldn’t we be securing the perimeter or something?” 

“They called for backup, Ianto.” Jack checked his weapons. “Ready?”

“You’ve got me,” Ianto said, “I just want to keep you all for myself.” But he said it stiffly, not teasing.

Jack cocked his head, reaching his hand around Ianto’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, I promise I’ll make it all up to you later.” He grinned, fired up. “But I can’t promise you can have me all to yourself.”

“If you want to have your fun,” Ianto said, “I’d never ask you to stop flirting or just, being you. Can’t let the aliens kidnap you though.”

“Thanks for the protection,” Jack grinned. 

“I’ll go in the back,” Ianto said. He was half-leaning on the wall now instead of on Jack. 

“That’s not the plan.” 

“Can’t walk properly, Captain.” Ianto admitted. “Knee still bungled.”

“Damn,” Jack cursed under his breath. “Sorry. Not your fault." 

Ianto shivered as Jack pulled him close, teasing him with hot breath, pressing a kiss on his cheek. "Stay here. I’ll come back for you.” 

“Promises, Captain.” 

Neither of them were in fighting condition, but Ianto didn’t want to say so. Jack was still the boss, and it would hurt him deeply if Ianto insisted they both stay behind. He’d already pressed his luck today—Jack wasn’t the type to let anyone own him, in any way, outside for transitory moments in the bedroom. And usually, Jack could sort out this kind of thing one-handed and blindfolded. 

As Jack rushed off round the corner, Ianto dropped into a sitting position and stretched out his leg. He leaned back against the wall, trying to listen to what was going on inside. He had to trust the Captain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sources on non-green plants and speculation about alien flora:
> 
> https://www.nature.com/news/2007/070409/full/news070409-7.html  
> https://www.newscientist.com/article/dn11578-for-plants-on-alien-worlds-it-isnt-easy-being-green/


	8. Whump

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack tries to rescue Tosh and Owen .... but who really needs rescuing?

Jack made his way through the back corridor into his office and paused by the door. He lifted his gun out of its holster, hands clasped around the cold steel. His heart thrummed in his ears as he tensed, ready to confront the aliens again and whatever might be going down in the Hub. Breathing in, he peered around the corner. 

Owen was on the floor in the middle of the Hub, groaning and pushing himself to his feet. He was alone, at least from Jack’s vantage point. 

Jack stepped forward, ready to duck back at any moment, but the coast looked clear. Where was Toshiko or their aliens?

“Owen,” he hissed in a loud whisper. “What’s happened?” 

“Oh it’s you,” grumbled the doctor, sounding annoyed. “Get me a med kit, would you?”

Owen dropped back to the floor looking pale, and Jack made his way over. He crouched beside the doctor. “Where’s Tosh?” He could see the fabric of Owen’s trousers ripped, and a stain of blood across his thigh.

“Upstairs,” Owen said. “Against my better advice, she followed them.”

Jack looked up but didn’t see or hear anything out of the ordinary. “She’ll be fine,” he reassured Owen, with no real conviction in his voice. Then he ran down to Owen’s surgical theater to grab an emergency kit with supplies, and rushed back to sit beside the doctor. He helped cut off the loose fabric from Owen’s trousers, which were wet with slime, and doused the wound in iodine. 

“It slimed me,” Owen was complaining, “Like a damn Nickelodeon show. Then ran away. And Tosh followed them.” 

Jack cut strips of gauze to protect the wound and taped them down on Owen’s leg. “We’ve talked to them,” he said. “They froze time somehow but Ianto and I came back here, and we met them, but not for long. Then we were beamed back to dinner.” He cocked his head “It’s a funny story.” 

Owen packed up the rest of the kit, then fixed a look at Jack. “Where’s Ianto now?”

“He’s safe,” Jack said, nodding toward the cog door. “He’s waiting outside. He’s not ready for action quiet yet.” 

“Right.” Owen stood carefully, a little unsteady. He looked like he was still in pain. “Let’s just find Tosh.”

“You ready?”

Owen gritted his teeth and nodded. “And you, Captain?” 

“Step one, we find out what they want,” Jack said. “Step two, we get them off the planet. There’s our plan, got it?”

“Sounds simple enough,” Owen shrugged. “Let’s go.”

As they moved toward the stairs, though, there was the slamming of the door from upstairs, and Toshiko emerged, followed by the Traxons. “We’re fine. Coming down,” she called. 

Jack was relieved to see her unharmed, looking as if she was guiding the aliens around the Hub. She was carrying a small pot, with a plant inside. 

“Jack!” Tosh said, when she saw him. “You made it.” She made her way down the stairs and put the four-foot-tall plant down on the floor. It must have been a little heavy. “Owen, remember our seedling? Look how it’s grown!” 

“You’re not kidding.” Owen limped over to her and the pot, peering down at it. “It was just a few inches a few hours ago.” 

“The Traxon want to take it with them,” Tosh said. 

“I grew that,” Owen said peevishly. “They can take a cutting.” 

“It’s from their planet, Owen. It’s the least we can give them, really.” 

“We’re not a garden center,” Owen grumbled, “Hunting down alien life, remember? Arming the human race against the future?” 

“Let them take the plant,” Jack stepped in, ending their bickering. He turned toward the aliens. “You’re welcome to it,” he told them. “”But I didn’t catch your names. Or species.”

“The thick one returns.” Algarry looked down at the Captain with his beady eyes. The pupils were huge, with a little ring of white around them, and sunken eye lids. 

“Who you calling thick?” Jack said, bemused, putting his hands on his hips. 

“Dense,” it corrected. “Our tracer latched onto you, not the rift.” 

“Well, how about that!” Jack said. 

“What do you mean, your tracer?” Owen asked, stepping forward toward them. 

“They hit me,” Jack said, not looking away from the aliens. “They launched something that targeted me, while I was driving, and I swerved. That’s how the SUV ended up as a paperweight. How Ianto ended up in the hospital.”

“You caused the accident?” Owen faced the aliens. “You?”

The creatures loomed forward toward Jack. “You are the real treasure,” said one, reaching out a finger to the Captain. “Come with us.” 

“But what was in that blast?” Owen asked. “Biological weapons? Some virus. Jack’s been fighting off something.”

“It is not a long journey,” the green alien said. “You’re weak now but we will see you strong again.” 

“Stay back.” Jack warned them. He tried to raise his arm, to raise his weapon. But his shoulder couldn’t move. He was frozen in place. His chest felt tight with anxiety, and he was breathing too heavily. There was a hum in his ears like an electronic buzzing. 

Jack took a wheezing, gasping breath, swayed, and his eyes went wide. He collapsed to his knees suddenly with a thud that rattled the metal grating on the floor. His breathing was ragged and he stared up at the aliens. He couldn’t even speak.

“Jack?” Owen called, lunging forward toward them. “What’s wrong?” 

Charry, the red Traxon, never took his eyes off him. Her face seemed to glow with an inner light below her skin. “We will take him now.”

She leaned forward…


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Torchwood's fixed point is undulating.

The alien reaching down toward Jack’s shoulder. But then she paused and lifted her head, turning it in an unnatural twist toward the door. The klaxon sounded, the door whirred and made its usual grinding noise, and Tosh and Owen turned toward the door as it opened. The aliens made a surpised cry of a noise, and took a step back, staring downward. 

There, in the doorway, stood Ianto. He stepped in and looked around, catching sight of the two aliens hovering beside Jack, who was kneeling on the floor and gasping for air, not looking toward him. And there were Tosh and Owen who had turned to look at him. 

“Got bored waiting,” said Ianto. “Am I interrupting something?” 

He’d heard Owen call Jack’s name, alarmed, but he’d already been getting more nervous by the moment waiting for the Captain to call the all-clear. What was he doing, waiting outside like a cripple and a coward, hiding while the others learned more about what was going on?

But no one answered him. It looked like he’d stepped in just in time. “Owen? Tosh?” he asked, stalling for time, “You’ve met our new friends?”

“Ianto?” It was Jack’s voice, raspy and weak who spoke up first. He still was staring off into space. “Told you to stay outside.”

Ianto was taking careful steps upward into the Hub, up the stairs and toward his friends. “Looks like you’re not in a position to be issuing orders,” he said. He was trying to keep his tone light, trying to keep everyone calm and distracted as long as possible. He tried to keep his voice and face neutral, but seeing Jack collapsed on the floor was making that difficult. 

“They’re not our friends,” Toshiko warned, as he came closer. 

“It’s okay.” Ianto told everyone. He kept walking, trying not to limp, trying to move smoothly as fast as he could without looking rushed. He looked up and caught Owen’s eye, and Owen unfroze finally and turned to go to Jack’s side. 

“So, what have I missed?” Ianto asked. “I know, always last one to the party. Anyone care to fill me in?” 

Tosh shook her head, “We’re not sure what’s happened. He just collapsed.” She took a step toward Ianto, reaching out in case he needed help, but he raised a hand and motioned her away. 

Owen knelt beside Jack. With one hand on Jack’s shoulder, steadying him, he pulled a pen light from his pocket and shone it in Jack’s eyes. “Look at me, Captain.” Jack turned his head, slightly, but his gaze wandered. 

Ianto was still taking small steps toward him, but the aliens were here between them, looming over him. “Hmmm,” The smaller red creature was staring at him. “This one’s returned.” 

“Hello,” Ianto said, forcing an overly friendly grin. “I didn’t catch your names before. Sorry we had to leave so suddenly. You know, in the time loop?” 

“Hmmmm,” it cocked its head. 

“Came back as soon as we could,” Ianto said. 

In the car, Jack had explained his hypothesis that they had each gotten looped back to a few seconds in the past, only they had each been separated in adjacent seconds, which is why they couldn’t see each other. That is, until the loop progressed and Jack had been able to step through to Ianto’s moment. Eventually, their loop had kept moving in tiny increments till it synched back up with real time. 

While time seemed to be acting normal again, there could still be some anomaly. They didn’t know if the looping was still progressing and if they could fall out of sync again. There could still be real consequences. Maybe it was still affecting Jack.

With one eye still watching the Captain, Ianto kept smiling at the creature in front of him. “I’m Ianto,” he said, reaching out a hand. He really didn’t want to touch them, but it was only polite. 

“I think they said Cherry—” Tosh said, trying to recall the creature’s names.

“And Argally,” said the green creature reaching its left paw out with its three bulbous fingers. As they neared Ianto’s hand, the tips began to glow, and he felt a hint of their warmth and a slight tingle, as Argally touched the fingertips to Ianto’s. “We are Traxon.” 

Ianto smiled. He recalled the way their fingers glowed earlier, too, when they had touched the plants in the greenhouse. That kind of light field wasn’t something he’d ever seen in a conscious alien before. It was only in fireflies or glow worms or plants that he’d seen this kind of bioluminescence. It was eerie, but also rather wonderful. 

“I’m glad to know you,” he said. Then as an aside to Tosh, “Tosh, have you looked them up, the Traxon?”

She shook her head. “We don’t know anything about them, except they want these plants.” She gestured over toward the beanstalk, still sitting in its pot by the stairs since they’d brought it down from the greenhouse and intended to take it back to their space ship. 

“Right,” Ianto said. “Of course. It’s part of their treasure, what they came for.” 

“Yes,” the Traxon said, its face now glowing like a slight blush, as if it were pleased he remembered. 

Owen was still on the ground, feeling around Jack’s neck, holding his wrist for a pulse. 

Ianto kept the alien’s attention. “So you have what you need,” he said. “Will you go home now, and leave us in peace?” 

He’d watched Jack handle alien encounters before, when they were passing by Earth. Usually Torchwood made radio contact or met them at a neutral location. Get in, practice good manners, and get them to leave, was always Jack’s directive. For his part, Ianto always privately wondered why Jack was so quick to shoo away visitors. Didn’t he want to know more about them, about where they were from, and their technology and the universe beyond their small planet? 

Now that Ianto was standing here, beside--or rather below--the two towering aliens, he didn’t feel quite so at ease. It hadn’t escaped his notice that Owen’s leg was bandaged, that Toshiko looked extremely nervous, and that their Captain was down. Although the aliens seemed placid enough, they’d invaded the base and the Torchwood team was suffering the consequences. It had been easier, with Jack standing at his side, to imagine they had more protection. They had felt like ambassadors between humans and the universe beyond. But they had no army standing behind them. Now, it terrified Ianto a bit to realize that it was Jack’s bravado, his very presence alone that made their encounters feel safe. 

“Hmm,” said the alien.“Yes, we found the seeds, but we cannot give them all away.”

“Why not?” Toshiko asked. “We have nothing else we can give you.”

“They are the last of their kind. It is too much power to give them away.” Argally turned to look at Jack again. 

They all looked, Ianto watched Jack’s head fall to the side, and Owen trying to get Jack to make direct eye contact with him. He was still on his knees, still awake and breathing, but on the verge of consciousness. 

Jack was just a man. Ianto had cried on his shoulder, and panted in the dark with him, but maybe all this time he’d had Jack on an unreal pedestal. Maybe the others had known better than Ianto, how vulnerable Jack could be. 

Ianto looked up at the aliens, in front of him. He noticed the flare of their nostrils and how bright their eyes were. Their wiry hair seemed to have a mind of its own as it floated above their heads. 

“These plants are the last? You mean they’re going extinct?” Toshiko asked.

“Hmm,” the alien nodded. 

Ianto dropped into a squat beside Jack. He took hold of his shoulder, and eased down to sit on the floor, pulling Jack to lean against him. “Captain,” he said quietly into Jack’s ear, “have they hurt you?” 

Jack shook his head, with a soft noise of dissent, but he didn’t look at Ianto. 

“Hold him steady,” Owen looked at Ianto and let go of Jack’s shoulder. 

Ianto braced himself, and let Jack lean fully against him. Ianto breathed in the sweat on Jack’s forehead and felt him trembling, shivering softly. 

Above them, Charry was telling Toshiko, “Our planets turned to desert. They are worlds of sand, and old farming huts. It is not like the old days. Everyone moves to the city worlds. All the food supply is owned by the rich families.”

“We are in school on Moon Ttwo,” said Charry. Now she was getting chatty. “Our uncles live on Spinnard Cube. Hmm. Your fixed point is undulating.” 

Ianto looked up, to see the aliens looking down at him. He knew they were talking about Jack. They’d called him a fixed point earlier, too. 

“What do you mean?” Tosh said. 

“He’s sick,” Ianto murmured. “Your bomb hit us.” 

“We can fix him,” Charry said. “Our ship is equipped.”

“We have medical supplies,” Algarry wobbled his head. “They are automated.”

“We will take him now.” Charry reached forward, extending her paws. Her arms were short and stubby, something like he imagined of a tyrannosaur, but with leathery skin. 

Ianto leaned back, shifting Jack to his side. Even as her fingertips started to glow, trying to make contact, Ianto leaned out of the range of her paws. He reached for his side arm and drew his gun, reaching around Jack’s shoulders to point at her. “Don’t come near him.”

“Hmmmm,” she hummed reassuringly. Very gently, she squatted to her haunches, and touched Jack’s knee with one finger. Ianto tried to pull away, but he didn’t really want to shoot her. Escalating things would only make things worse. A slight glow seemed to ignite in her fingertips, and Jack moaned, leaning his fact into Ianto’s neck. Ianto felt Jack take a heaving breath.

Ianto held on to him. “You all right?” he asked, rocking them. Jack’s breath was shallow, and he was clammy. 

The light dimmed as Charry dropped her finger. “Not long now,” she said, “You should really let us help.”

“Hello, Captain,” Owen said, looking into Jack’s eyes. “Stay with us. Can you tell us what happened?”

Jack’s throat worked, and he opened his mouth but said nothing.

“Well, he’s responsive,” Owen said, “just weak. Let’s get him to sick bay.”

“Get out of our way,” Ianto told Charry, sitting back and propping Jack up by the shoulders. 

“Ready?” Owen asked, gripping Jack’s ankles. 

Ianto nodded, and hefted Jack by the shoulders. He tried to prop Jack’s head against his body to give him some support. “Let’s go.”

“Get out of their way,” Toshiko said, trying to shoo the aliens to the side, and Ianto and Owen carried Jack downstairs. 

“Stay here Tosh,” Owen told her as they walked past. “Keep them occupied. See what else you can find out.” 

Jack drifted in and out of consciousness, as Ianto and Owen settled him on the cot in the medical room. Owen was already pulling a pillow and sheets out of the cabinets, and together they tried to make Jack more comfortable. 

“What can I do?” Ianto asked. He knew where everything down here was, because he ordered supplies and helped Owen keep things organized, but he still felt at a loss for how to help. 

“Talk to him,” Owen told Ianto. “Keep him awake.” He turned then, and started setting up a tray of supplies.

Ianto took a breath to ground himself, and turned back to his lover. He took Jack’s hand, and smoothed down his shirt. “Captain, we need you to pay attention now.” He tried to sound like he was scolding rather than pleading. “You remember the time loop? We’re in a bit of a situation, aren’t we?” 

He turned around to survey their supplies, opened a drawer, and picked out things he thought could be useful. He handed a stethoscope over to Owen, and then a reflex hammer, all the while trying to keep one eye on Jack and keep talking. “Have you heard of them before? The Traxons, and their dying planets?” 

This wasn’t his forte, he thought, talking for the sake of it. Gwen should be here. She was probably home with her husband, drinking a pint and eating spaghetti. 

For a moment, Ianto felt jealous. Rhys was a good man and a good cook. Why couldn’t he have fallen for an average chap? He could be home having dinner, watching a film. 

But there was Jack, looking beautiful even when he was grey and pale. His head swayed, his eyes were glazed over, and he couldn’t seem to focus on anything. Ianto knew that without Torchwood, he wouldn’t have had this maddeningly strange evening, and he couldn’t really imagine wanting anything else. A normal life would bore him to death. Ianto swallowed hard, his throat feeling tight with the fear of losing Jack and not understanding what was going on. 

“Ianto,” Owen’s voice cut through his thoughts. “You can put those down now.”

And Ianto looked down and realized his arms were still full of supplies. He dropped the pile of things back on the table and took a quieting breath. 

“The Traxons, they seemed cooperative,” he started again, turning around to Owen. “They wanted to tell us about their planet. Maybe they can help. Maybe they could tell us more. We could ask them for blood samples? Get them to record more of their language for us.” 

“Bit busy now,” Owen muttered. He hung a saline bag on a hook, plugged in a tube, and picked up a needle off his tray, looking over to Ianto with a raised eyebrow. 

“This might hurt a bit,” Ianto said to Jack, watching him for any reaction as Owen plunged the needle in his arm. Jack’s body jerked at the twinge, and he heaved a breath. 

“Owen’s putting you on a liquid diet for now,” Ianto told him. “Feel free to complain about the menu.” Jack’s eyes fluttered, and he groaned.

Owen grunted a laugh, and finished plugging in the tubing for the IV drip. “Has he eaten? Did you finish dinner?” 

“Just wine, maybe bread,” Ianto tried to recall. “So no.” He paled further as he realized Jack had been driving after two glasses of wine. He squeezed Jack’s hand. “You’re probably just dehydrated.” 

“You—” Jack whispered.

“Jack?” Ianto leaned forward. “What is it?”

“I wanted to tell you,” Jack swallowed. His throat must have been dry. He was looking up toward Ianto, but not really meeting his eyes. “You don’t smell right.”

Ianto stared at him. “And you need to be more careful. Stop blundering in when you can’t follow through.”

There was no reaction. Jack’s mouth moved but he took a moment to speak. Then he just mumbled, “Captain Jack Harkness and all of his men, couldn’t put Torchwood together again.”

Owen’s business-like voice saved Ianto from trying to answer this riddle. “Steady on, Captain.” The doctor peered down at his patient. “You probably overdid it. Take a rest.” 

“Torchwood’s fine,” Ianto added. But Jack’s gaze drifted around the room, and his eyelids fluttered. Ianto kept talking, “What do you need? Do you want some pizza? A steak? Vintage chianti?”

Jack’s eyes glazed over again and started to close. Ianto leaned over him. “Jack?!” he called, shaking him by the shoulder. “Owen, he’s out again.” Ianto put a palm on Jack’s chest, “But he’s breathing.”

“Hmm.” Owen pulled out another machine and fished Jack’s hand out, and clipped something onto a finger. One of the displays buzzed to life with his vitals signs nearby. “With any luck, we’ll have him making inappropriate remarks and swaggering about, good as new in no time.” 

“Good as new?” Ianto perched on a stool by Jack’s side, picking up his hand. With Jack unconscious, he gave up trying to sound cheerful. “He’s been off all week, hasn’t he? Not able to heal. It’s catching up to him.”

“Could be nothing. Don’t listen to me,” Owen said. “You know I’m a pessimist, tea boy.”

His comment was dismissive, and Ianto wasn’t sure whether to find this reassuring. Ianto said, “You were running tests though. Why haven’t you told me what you found?”

Owen nodded, considering. “Jack said time froze and you popped in for a look,” he said. 

“I saw some pages, with colored lines, our names on them,” Ianto said. 

Owen nodded. “What you saw were probably my blot tests. It’s used to detect antibodies in the system, and some diseases like HIV.”

“Oh,” Ianto said, unable to look at Owen anymore. He pulled a sheet up over Jack’s stomach. The captain looked vulnerable lying there, and Ianto didn’t like it. He wanted to keep that for himself. If only he could keep some part of Jack for himself, for when they were alone and spent and resting together, or sleeping. It didn’t matter if he had other lovers, but he was always so strong, for the team. 

Owen sat down in the stool across from him and tried to catch Ianto’s eye. “Jack’s system is fighting something I’ve never seen before,” he said. “But you’re clear. I didn’t tell you because I found nothing, which is what I hoped to find.”

Ianto wasn’t really relieved to hear it. He looked at Jack gloomily. “And what about him?” 

“He’s not gone yet. Don’t tempt fate, Ianto.” Owen glared at him, then turned away. He came back with a set of pads and clips, probably to monitor the heart. “Do you want to attach these, or shall I?”


	10. Intermission: Who Are The Traxons?

Pardon the ongoing intermission as your amateur author figures out her story.

In the meantime, please enjoy this sketch of the newest alien interlopers interrupting the lives of our Torchwood team. Click the link to view:

  [Traxons Taking their Treasure](https://pasteboard.co/IlnVOq9.jpg)

 

 


	11. The Waiting Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for waiting! I'm ready to start posting again though I still haven't broken the story up to figure out how many chapters, there are about 21 in total--it's mostly written-- and I'll try to post weekly.

What she wouldn’t give to be home with a book, a pot of tea, and the night to herself. Instead, Toshiko was here in the Hub, after a weird couple weeks had turned into another wild night for Torchwood. The base had been invaded by aliens, then Jack had collapsed, and now Owen and Ianto were downstairs looking after him. Who knew where Gwen was—hopefully, home with peace and quiet.

That left Toshiko alone with the intruders. If she counted her blessings, at least they seemed more interested in Owen’s experimental plants from the greenhouse, rather than world domination. Now they were just standing there, awkwardly. She was stuck being a guard—or maybe babysitter was the more accurate term. 

“You said you could heal Jack,” she crossed her arms, “What’s wrong? What can you do?”

Charry, the Traxon alien with the reddish skin, squatted on her haunches which put her enormous face on an eye level with Tosh. “He’s a vortex, like the Rift,” she said. “A fixed point threaded through space and time. But he’s human, and his life force ebbs.” 

The alien resembled a large, furless kangaroo, with its fat tail reaching out behind it and helping it balance on long lower legs. Its arms were short and rested on its knees. 

“Do you mean he’s going to die?” Toshiko asked. Even though her translation program was helping them communicate and making their words sound like English, the grammar didn’t feel right.

“My brother will explain,” said the red Traxon. 

The green one, Algarry, squatted down. “As Sister Charry says. He can’t continue in this form, but he is not part of the natural order.”

“Do you mean he’ll transform into something else?” She was starting to doubt she would get any answers. This was like talking in riddles, but she had to try. 

Charry looked around, as if she was searching for an answer. She squinted at the tall plant and she reached out, plucked a leaf, and held it up in front of Tosh’s face. “Like a plant,” she said, “he would still live or breathe, but no longer be a person.”

Toshiko nodded. “He’d be vegetative.” She took the leaf, feeling the firmness of its texture. Her fingernail cut through its flesh, and a small dark line appeared on the surface. This leaf still looked alive but would wilt soon, just as Jack had done. “But you said you could heal him?” she looked up. “Go. Get your equipment. Show us how you can help.” 

“That cannot be.” Algarry wobbled his head, bouncing on his heels, but did not stand back up. “It is part of our ship. The emergency module.”

“Your ship?” It made sense, when Tosh considered it. The Traxons might not have any medical training, but their ship could come equipped with scanners and software that would automatically repair minor injuries, or administer injections or pharmaceuticals, or put a subject in stasis for healing. 

“He must come with us,” Charry said, standing up and looming over Toshiko again, “This is the only way.” 

“We can’t allow that,” Tosh told them. “If you can’t help, it’s time for you to leave.” 

“Hmm,” red-skinned Charry’s face was starting to glow, as she stood up. Toshiko took a step back. Now she’d actively provoked them, who knew what they might do. 

Charry just looked at her brother. 

“Hmmmm,” Algarry said, wobbling its head and looking at Toshiko. “We will leave you now. Our ship will be outside. When you change your hopes.”

“You can go. Leave the planet,” Toshiko said. She picked up the potted plant. “I’ll help you carry this out. Come on now.” 

“Hmm.” They hesitated, then picked up the tray of plantlets and to her relief, they trailed behind her toward the cog door. 

When they’d left, she hurried to her workstation. She didn’t have the stamina to add more security to their perimeter tonight. For now, she could change the passwords and tighten the firewalls, disable the invisible lift and any auxiliary entrances. 

She’d have to audit and overhaul the whole security system later, but she suspected there would always be some enterprising alien with advanced technology outwitting her capabilities. 

By the time Tosh packed up to go home, Ianto was mopping up the alien slime, while Owen was goofing around at his desk. None of them had called Gwen. It seemed kinder to give her the night off. 

When the door finally closed behind Tosh, Owen strolled over to where Ianto was wringing out the mop. “You too. The slime can wait.”

“Almost done.” He went over to the sink, squeezed out the mop, and rinsed and squeezed again. 

“You’re barely out of the woods yourself,” Owen said. 

“I’m fine.” He propped the mop in the bucket and turned to look at Owen. With nothing in his hands, he realized he’d left his cane behind earlier, with all the adrenaline and excitement. 

He’d forgotten his limp and the pain. Now it mocked him again with a dull ache through his hip and down into his kneecap, and he leaned heavily against the counter. In the morning, he’d wake up stiff, but that wasn’t a concern. 

“I’m staying with him,” he fixed Owen with a look. 

“You might need your wits about you in the morning,” Owen pointed out. “We can watch him in shifts. I’m not leaving a patient alone here either.” 

“There’s nothing else you can do?” Ianto asked. 

“He won’t be alone,” Owen shrugged. 

Ianto sighed and leaned the mop in its corner. “I’ll sit with him first.” 

Owen dragged a chair downstairs, and Ianto sank into it. Owen went down to one of the rooms they had stationed with cots, for long nights when they had to take shifts. 

Alone, Ianto let the exhaustion seep in. If he could just lay down, curled up beside Jack, he could sleep. But here, half sitting, half leaning against Jack’s hospital bed, he just watched the monitors. Watched Jack breathing. 

“Captain, you’re not alone,” he said. “Can’t get rid of me that easily, you know.”

Jack’s eyelids didn’t shift, his fingers didn’t move, even when Ianto let his fingers brush against his cheeks and squeezed his hand. There was no response. Where was he, then? Could he be disembodied, again, stuck in another moment and wandering the Hub? Asleep, and dreaming of alien worlds? Or just lost, unconscious in the dark? Ianto let his forehead drop onto the bed. He concentrated his thoughts on going in search of Jack, and let himself fall into that alien world of sleep.


	12. The Collector

A light rain was pattering outside, as Gwen pulled the SUV through the rain and the residential streets. This was where Conway Ellis had lived—the alien collector who had sold his findings on eBay, and somehow met an untimely end. The toxicology report wasn’t back yet to tell them how he’d died, but at least they could look through his home, collect anything alien, and search for any evidence they could find about the murder. 

Gwen looked around at the homes on the block, thinking of all the gossip that must be going around behind the closed doors and curtains. They were old stone estates, with some wealthy and well-established owners, some retirees and some families. She hoped the police were at least knocking on doors. Torchwood wasn’t really in the business of solving murder cases. 

She walked up the drive with Ianto by her side, carrying packing materials and supplies, so they could recover any alien artifacts still left in the house. Ianto was meticulous about this kind of work. Mainly though, she’d brought him along because Owen had begged her to get him away from the Hub and out of his hair. 

As she carefully fitted the key in the door, she saw Ianto fidgeting. “Shouldn’t we avoid being noticed by the neighbors?” he asked. “Go in the back door instead?” 

“We’ve every right to be here,” Gwen reassured him, although she had noticed at least one suspicious car idling down the road. “You know, there’s nothing we can do for Jack right now.” 

“It’s not that,” Ianto mumbled. “Just not keen to rummage through unidentified alien objects—possibly dangerous ones—with a murderer on the loose.” 

“Well, don’t worry, we’re armed.” She patted the holster at her side.

“Right,” Ianto said, uneasily, and followed her inside.

Gwen felt along the wall for the light switch, and a chandelier flickered on overhead, along with lights from display cases lining the walls. “Oh wow,” she said, “Are those all alien?”

Ianto walked over to peer inside the display cases. “It’s all a jumble,” he said. “Alien stones, something that looks like a petrified flower, scraps of fabric, a red beetle with four orange antennae?”

“Huh,” said Gwen, looking around the room itself. The décor wasn’t much-- an old, beige floral wallpaper, shag carpet, books stacked unevenly on shelves 

“And it’s locked,” Ianto added, jiggling the door to the display case. 

“I’ll find the keys,” Gwen said. “Sure they’re about here somewhere.” She peered over the coffee table, littered with scribbled notes, paper clips, and pens, then she wandered into the kitchen. 

“Nothing’s in order, or labeled,” Ianto mused, while she looked, still staring into the collection. “If something was missing, we’d never know. And if we touched something wrong, who knows if anything could trigger something else?” 

“Well,” Gwen called back to him from the kitchen, as she opened and looked in drawers, “Let us know if something looks like it’s about to explode, yeah?” 

“I’m sure every device is built with a warning system.” 

Gwen appreciated his sarcasm. She found the kitchen, too, sat in disarray. A corner of the counter was piled with tools—screwdriver, pliers, twist ties, even a few screws and paper clips, next to a knife sharpener and set of knives. There were pruning shears, too. 

By the stove, an herb jar had fallen and left a pile of a brown spice nobody had cleaned up. The herbs in the other glass jars—typical cooking spices-- looked beige and faded, old and unused. 

In contrast, a couple small shiny tins sat next to the stove, carefully labeled with a label maker. “TEA – RELAX” And “TEA—FOR SLEEP.” Possibly their friend Conway suffered from anxiety, she thought. 

Gwen turned her attention to the drawers, pulling them open to find silverware, cooking utensils, and finally a stationary drawer with stamps, odds and ends, and a little keyring with small keys. “Here’s the golden ticket!” she lifted the keys, jingling them together. 

“Lovely,” said Ianto. He was organizing his little boxes to carry and sort the artifacts in. He pulled out two pairs of leather gloves, and handed the smaller pair to Gwen. “I believe these are your size.”

“Thanks, Ianto.” She pulled on the gloves—to protect her hands from the alien things, or the alien things from her hands, she supposed--and tried each key in one of the locks, till the case opened with a soft noise. “There we are.”

She reached in, touching little glass figurines and metal clips and woven string. “What do you suppose these all are?” she asked. “Some of it just looks like junk.”

Ianto reached in and picked up what looked like a glass turtle. “Fancy paperweight?” he said. “Or a skin care device from a foreign galaxy. Just don’t rub your face with it, might give you warts.” 

“Pleasant thought,” Gwen grimaced. “OK, let’s wrap everything carefully, then we’ll get it sorted at the Hub.”

“We’ve got boxes and packing things,” Ianto gestured at his array of supplies and pulled out bubble wrap, soft film for padding, and sheets of a plastic shielding to wrap the electronics. “And in the SUV, we’ve still got containment chambers, and an animal crate. Just in case something moves that we’re not expecting.” 

“You really have thought of everything.” She laughed. She appreciated it, really she did, except that Ianto was so over-prepared that it made her more nervous about all the things he’d been imagining could go wrong.

“I’d rather not get stuck in time again.” Ianto raised an eyebrow. “We don’t need a repeat of that ghost machine, either.” 

“Definitely not,” Gwen agreed. She reached for the paper and started to wrap the objects, one by one, while Ianto was assembling the cardboard boxes.

“Jack identified Ellis as a ‘Resident of Concern,’ in his files,” Ianto told her, “He   
must have suspected something, but he didn’t write down any details.” 

They’d filled Gwen in, since she’d missed the excitement the night before. With Jack still unconscious at the Hub, they couldn’t ask him what was going on. “How did Jack seem to you, this past week? Was there any sign he was so sick?”

“He’s been tired.” Ianto shrugged. “I thought he was on the mend. That he’d pop back to being, you know, ready to take on the world.” He looked at her.

“He seemed to be looking forward to your date,” Gwen said with a little smile.   
“You never suspected he might be running out of time, like Owen says?” 

Ianto and dropped his eyes. “I thought he was just feeling guilty. I should have seen something was off.” He gestured with a large, glass vase he was wrapping. “Guess I’ve been just thinking of myself.” 

Gwen felt her stomach drop and reached out a hand to him. “Oh, no, I didn’t mean – Whatever’s happened, it’s not on you,” she told him in a softer voice, leaning over and trying to catch his eye. “None of this is your fault. I just wondered if you’d seen anything the rest of us missed, since you’re close.” 

“He shrugged it off,” Ianto said, settling the vase neatly in a box. “We thought everything was improving. He must have hoped for the same.” 

Gwen nodded. “We hoped he’d learned something. That he’d be more careful.”

Ianto started fumbling with the bubble wrap, unrolling it and laying it out across the counter. “You all treated him like he was to blame,” he said, “for the accident. But it’s Jack. He takes risks." 

Gwen nodded, “He takes risks, yeah, with our lives.” 

"That’s what we do. That’s Torchwood.” Ianto paused for just a moment, then looked up at her, one eyebrow raised. “We wouldn’t give it up though, would we?” 

"Nothing lasts forever," Gwen shook her head. “It wouldn't hurt him to be more careful sometimes."

"Right," Ianto conceded. He went back to packing up. 

When they finished with most of the articles in the display cases, there was the rest of the house. In the hallway, Conway had rows of planting nursery tables lines with flats of seedlings and terrariums, and bright fluorescent lights glowing down on them. Ianto and Gwen carefully lifted the trays and placed them in long, flat boxes. 

They took turns carrying the boxes to the front room. Their footsteps pattered on the carpet. With each of them coming and going, there wasn’t much room for conversation. The lights buzzed, just as the machines must have been buzzing around Jack at the Hub. 

Ianto looked behind him when a sudden noise creaked in one of the dark bedrooms off the hallway. Gwen stood there, cocking her head, listening too. They stared at each other, and Gwen put her finger to her lips, “Shh! Shh.” She pointed into the room, her eyes wide. 

There was a scraping, another creaking, and Ianto thought of the tree outside his childhood flat that would scrape the window in a storm. “Just the wind?” he whispered.

Gwen shook her head, with another “shhh!” 

There was a rattling like an old drafty window, clacking and bouncing in its frame. Then another loud clunk. 

The Torchwood agents both reached for their guns at their hips. 

Ianto moved first, sliding into the bedroom with his gun raised, and Gwen just behind him. The window scratched again. They stood together, trying to see through the dark. They could hear each other breathing and trying not to. 

Outside, the shadows of trees moved across the window and grew larger. It wasn’t only trees. There was the shadow of a man, sliding the window open. Then the shadow bent and moved, slipping in a foot and an arm through the cracks. 

\---

 

“Find anything?” Hopefully, Tosh peeked over Owen’s shoulder. 

“Not much yet,” Owen admitted. He’d been poring through the toxicology report from the murder case the police sent over. “Conway Ellis, 56-year-old pensioner. Died of poisoning. There’s definitely something weird in this dead guy’s blood that I don’t recognize. And something I do.”

Tosh gave him a quizzical look. 

“Retcon.”

“He was retconned?” she asked. “But who has access, besides us?”

“Good question,” he said. “How’s our security?”

“I repaired the damage. Added an extra layer,” she said. “There’s another thing. The Traxons haven’t left.” 

“I looked,” Owen said. “I didn’t see them.”

“There’s a perception filter,” Tosh said. “Like the feeling there’s a blind spot on the camera where you can’t quite see. The ship is still there.”

Owen sighed, “Say you’re right. If they got in once, can they get in again?”

She shrugged. “That I can’t say.” 

“At least, it’s not likely they took the retcon,” Owen said.” 

“Let’s check the logs,” Tosh suggested. “If one of us took a dose off base recently, we should have it on record.”


	13. Intrusions

The shadow eased into the room with a few very human grunts and movements. Once it was fully inside, Ianto stepped out of the darkest shadow, gun clutched in his hands. “Hands above your head.” 

“Drop everything, we’re armed.” Gwen added. “Cardiff police. Stay where you are.”

“I don’t think so!” It was a man’s deep voice. The man rushed back threw the window and dashed off. 

“Bugger!” Ianto said. 

“Why didn't you tase him?” Gwen rushed to the window and holstered her gun to climb outside. She pulled herself through the open window frame, her shoes touching down with a soft crunch on the gravel. She ran out to the street, just in time to catch sight of Ianto running after the man. He must have run back through the house, faster than she’d been able to get outside. 

So all that training he’d been doing, running on the treadmill in the basement-–because Jack had asked it of him, no doubt-- was paying off. She was impressed. She took off running after them, knowing she couldn’t keep up. The two tall men were faster and had a head start. 

“Police!” she called after them. She sprinted madly, out of breath, following them around the corner. If she had to give up, she hoped Ianto could subdue or catch up with the perp. They were already turning another corner and kept going. 

She could feel her lungs burning, her feet pounding the pavement, trying to reach the turn before they turned another way and she couldn’t follow their path. She’d get lost in these streets, if she didn’t pay attention to where she was going, too.

“Police! Stop where you are!” She hated that she’d probably be catching the neighbors’ attention. 

Both Ianto and the perp were slowing down, winded, and finally the fellow gave up and jogged to a halt, turning to look at them. 

“Don’t shoot, don’t shoot!” he called, hands up and shaking his head as he tried to catch his breath. 

“Hands up, on your knees!” Ianto was calling, circling around the man and putting him between Ianto and Gwen herself, so he was surrounded. She lifted her gun too, giving him no chance to make another escape.

“What are you doing, breaking and entering?” Gwen asked.

“You don’t look like police.” He looked them over, but he did obey and drop to his knees. 

“Police Constable Gwen Cooper, Cardiff Police Force.” Gwen pulled out her badge and dangled it in the man’s face. “We’re looking into the death of Conway Ellis. Something tells me you might know him?”

The man stared at her. “What are you going to do with me?”

“Answer the question!” Gwen shouted at him. “Who are you, and why were you breaking into the house?” 

“Peter Hudson,” the man said, looking up at her. His hands were shaking. “Conway was a friend.” 

“Why break into your friend’s house?” 

He swallowed, looking up at her. “Had some of my things at his place. I knew once you cops and his lawyers and family got in there, I might never get anything back.”

“OK Peter,” said Gwen, without lowering her side arm. “We’d better go inside and talk. Get up.”

“Anything I can do. I just wanted to look around once more.” 

“I’m not going to charge you with anything, but I have some questions I’m going to need you to answer.” 

Peter nodded. “Thank you.”

“Now move--Get up. Stay in front of me.” She motioned with the gun for him to stand up and start walking. Ianto walked in front of them. Tense silence settled around them, as they made their way back to the house. 

When they finally made it back inside, Gwen was relieved to find all their supplies and things still strewn about, untouched. Anyone could have snuck in and taken something while they were chasing Peter down. He could have easily just been a distraction. 

“Sit down,” she pointed Peter to the couch. She brushed at her hair, slightly damp from the weather outside.

“I’ll close the windows,” Ianto called. “And coffee?”

“Yes, thanks,” Gwen said. Their hearts were all racing, and it wasn’t like they needed another pick-me-up, but a hot drink might make the questioning go more easily. 

“I’m PC Gwen Cooper.” Gwen sat down on an armchair. “And that’s Ianto Jones, my partner. So tell me, Peter, what was your relationship with Ellis, exactly? How did you know each other?”

“We worked together.” Dressed in slacks and a polo shirt, this Peter Hudson seemed well put together in a generic sort of way, almost like he was trying to be your everyday guy and stay invisible. He still looked nervous as he settled down on Conway’s torn old sofa. He was mid-thirties, balding, with a studied frown between his eyebrows. 

“I’m a gardener, and I do botany research,” Peter explained. “Conway let me use part of his yard for my work, and I helped him in the greenhouse.” 

“Any of those plants you grew, were they rare or valuable?” 

Peter frowned at the table. “Why would anyone want someone dead over a few plants? Just doesn’t make any sense.” He looked up then. “But if you ask me, it was that man hanging about the place. A man with a long dark coat. He’s your suspect.” 

“It is Cardiff,” Ianto pointed out. “Half the population has a long coat.” He'd entered with a tray holding mugs and spoons, a sugar jar, and a carton of milk that he must have found in the fridge. 

“But this one was different,” said Peter. “Like a military coat. A bit weird if you ask me. Tall bloke, dark hair, not too young, but not old.” He looked at them. “He was hanging around, making trouble.” 

Ianto and Gwen shared a look. “Like a Royal Air Force coat?” she asked. “World War II, with engraved buttons?”

“Yeah, could be. Straps on the shoulder, shiny buttons,” He gestured at Ianto, who was slipping back out of the room to fetch the coffee. “About his height.”

Gwen nodded, thoughtfully. “I’m going to need you to think carefully about him. What exactly did you see?” 

“I was working out in the garden,” he shook his head, “maybe a week back. This fellow came in, talking with Conway, but I couldn’t hear what they were saying. It looked tense.” 

“And then?”

“The next day, Conway was upset. Said people were pressuring him to shut the web site down and he’d have to be careful whom we let in. I thought it must be the man.” 

“So he was afraid someone might come in and what? Hurt him?”

Peter shook his head, “I’m not sure. A few days later though, I saw him again.”

Ianto came back, this time with the pot of coffee, and started to pour out the steaming, fragrant liquid into the mugs. Gwen took a deep breath, and the scent settled her. Peter took the mug that Ianto handed him, and breathed in the steam. “This would be better with vodka, eh?” he laughed awkwardly.

Ianto said, “I could look for some?”

“He didn’t drink,” Peter shook his head. “Here’s what’s real suspicious. I drove up late one night to go over some business, but I saw this man hanging around. It was the coat again. He was walking around the house, looking in the windows. Maybe to see if Conway’s alone.”

“Spying?” asked Ianto, as he handed Gwen a mug, and began to pour his own.

“Yeah,” said Peter. “Then he knocks. Conway lets him in. I see them arguing through the window, but then they walk out of my view. Things get quieter. The lights go out. And then this bloke walks out and leaves.”

“The lights went out and then he left?” Ianto asked. 

“Yes.” Peter shook his head. “Odd, right?”

“Did you hear any of it?” Gwen asked. “What did they argue about?” 

“I don’t know,” Peter said. “I rang the bell. Conway answered a while later. We talked. He seemed distracted and confused, so I left. We didn’t get any work done. The next day, he was dead.” Peter took a heavy breath. He looked at both of them in turn. 

“Could they have been intimate?” Ianto asked after a spot of silence. “The lights go out, this man leaves. Conway’s sleepy, confused? It might not be the kind of foul play you think.”

He looked uncomfortable, asking the question.

Peter huffed. “I doubt it. Conway? Anyway, lover’s quarrel, bad business arrangement, doesn’t matter now. That man's the last person who saw him. I should have confronted him.” 

“Any other witnesses?” Gwen asked. “Do you think any other neighbors would have seen him going in? Or seen you waiting outside?”

“Couldn’t say,” Peter shrugged. He gestured out the window. “Mostly, folks here seem to mind their own business.” 

“What about your plants or these artifacts?” Gwen asked, “Can you help us identify anything?” 

“He was a bit of a hoarder, really. Mostly junk, I expect.” Peter held up his fingers to make air quotes—“’Alien,’ he called them. Wanted to make all that debris seem more exotic than it really is, you know.” 

Gwen looked around, and then back to Peter. “Do you want to know what I believe?” Before he could answer, she continued, “Some of the things we’ve seen here in this house really could be alien. We’re not ruling anything out.”

Peter looked around, taking in the boxes and palettes they’d been packing everything on. “So you’re confiscating them?” 

Ianto cleared his throat. “They’re part of the investigation,” he said. “We’ll release them once we’ve determined they’re safe and in the right hands.”

“You’re not police,” Peter said, looking puzzled. “Everything should be labeled as evidence, but you’re just tossing it in a box.” 

“We’ll be labeling it at the precinct,” Gwen lied smoothly. “We just wanted to get it done and get out of here quickly.” She stood up then, “Well, you’ve been very helpful, Peter.”

Ianto cleared his throat and brandished a pad of paper and a pen. “If you’d like to record what items you came here looking for, we’ll be happy to contact you when we’re ready to release the evidence.” 

“That’s all right.” Peter sighed and stood up. “I just hope you find who did this.”

“It’s no problem,” Ianto said with a smile. “Let me get your name, number, and a description. We’ll let you know what we find.” 

In the end, they couldn’t pin Peter down to naming any specific thing or plant he’d been looking for, but he did give them a phone number, which Gwen suspected was a fake. 

After he left, Gwen stood up to gather up the mugs. “I’ll do the washing up if you like.” 

“Conway’s mug.” Ianto reached out. “Genetic material. Could be useful?” 

Gwen handed him the mug, shrugging. “Maybe?” 

“Did you believe him?” Ianto asked. 

“I think so,” Gwen said, “I got the feeling he was leaving something out though.”

Ianto nodded, wrapping up the evidence so they could track Peter, if they needed to. They loaded up the van, and cleared out as quick as they could. Gwen slowly drove back through the city, and meanwhile, her mind was turning. “You don’t think it was Jack, do you?” she said. “Man in a vintage grey coat.” She spared a glance away from the road and at Ianto.

“It’s not his style,” Ianto said. “Jack would sweep in, take everything, and leave the man with a strict warning. He could have deleted all evidence of the web sites, or any files, without stepping foot in here. He could have taken anything he wanted. Why murder him and leave the alien stuff behind?” 

“He has his secrets,” Gwen said. 

“More likely a private affair, or personal business,” Ianto threw her a glance with a knowing half-smile, as if she was being absurd. “If anyone can cover his tracks, it’s Jack Harkness.”

“Does that bother you? If he had other partners?”

"Why should it?" Ianto shrugged, as if he was unconcerned. "It's Jack. Of course, he has others. Hasn't mentioned them."

“Man of many secrets,” Gwen said. She wondered, not for the first time, what other secrets Ianto was keeping for their Captain.


	14. Tangled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Torchwood team makes some demands of Ianto he's not expecting

Gwen clicked on the projector and the wall of the board room lit up. “I’m going to show you photos of Conway’s estate, starting with the garden.”

She’d taken the photos while Ianto loaded the car up with their crates of artifacts, on a quick final walk-through of the property. Now, the light cast from the projector cast eerie shadows. There were tangled vines and intricate flowers climbing the walls. 

“I’m no botanist,” Toshiko said, “but those do look like they could be alien, don’t they?”

“Did you get leaf samples, measurements, anything?” Owen asked. 

“We had enough to carry back,” Ianto pointed out, “from inside the house.” 

In the garden, the paths looked swallowed up by purple shrubs and orange grasses, and some unlikely plants that looked more like fluffy animals than foliage. A tall tower of intertwining stalks grew out of the center of the garden, with yellow and red-streaked foliage. It was like the beanstalk you’d climb to meet a giant.

Inside the greenhouse, crowded up to the filmy glass and white-washed beams, there were pots cascading with bright red and silver leaves, purple, and yellow. 

“Hold on,” Toshiko stood, leaning forward to stare at the screen. “Go back?” 

Gwen flipped back to the previous image, and looked at her curiously. It was the photo of the strange beanstalk.

“That’s it,” Owen too squinted at the screen. “That’s the plant the Traxons took last night. Same species, I’d gather.” 

“They said it was some kind of food crop,” Toshiko said.

“How did you get the same alien plant here?” Gwen asked, looking closer at the foliage on screen. 

“ _DreamAlliance,_ eBay,” said Owen. “I bought up a whole stash of alien seeds. That these clowns--” he gestured to Ianto and Tosh—“ just handed over to the aliens.”

Ianto rolled his eyes. “You purchased alien plants off the internet, but you didn’t bother to find out who’s selling them and shut them down?”

Owen shrugged. “I had other things to do.”

“We are a team, in theory,” Ianto pointed out. “We could have raided the place before Conway got himself killed?” 

“Yeah well, you’ve been a bit distracted, haven’t you?” Owen protested, crossing his arms. “And Jack hasn’t exactly been captaining much, has he?”

“Enough!” Gwen told them, like a teacher reprimanding two squabbling kids. “What if Jack found your eBay history and took matters into his own hands?”

“About that.” Owen stood, brandishing a folder of paperwork. “Your friend Andy sent back the toxicology report, which says, Conway Ellis had traces of unusual organic compounds in his system. Among them, Retcon.” 

“Retcon, are you sure?” Gwen asked. “You’re saying Jack drugged him?”

“There’s no corresponding log for it,” said Tosh. “Nothing linking Jack and that dose. No one checked out any pills that week.”

Ianto cleared his throat. “Jack keeps extra Retcon on him, just in case anything happens.”

“Well, we have another lead,” said Owen. “Because it’s not just the Retcon that did him in. There are other organic compounds in his system, and they’re linked to some file, some contact.”

“What is it?”

“It’s been redacted. The only person authorized to identify the contact who can tell us what this compound is? The one and only—“ he paused.

Like a chorus, both Toshiko and Ianto answered. “Jack?” 

“You guessed it, Captain Jack Harkness,” Owen announced.

“It specifically says just Jack can access that information,” asked Gwen, “not Torchwood?”

“Our Captain, and only him.” Then Owen looked at Ianto with a little grin. “Or, perhaps someone with his passwords?”

“You want me to unlock his private files?” Ianto asked. “He won’t like it.” 

“Bugger what he wants, he’s unconscious. It’s Torchwood business,” Owen told him. “That makes it our business.” 

“We do need answers.” Gwen shut off the projector. “What if whoever killed Conway is planning to poison someone else?”

“I can hack in,” Tosh offered, “If you’d rather not.”

“Not necessary. I’ll do it.” Ianto stood up, and reached out for the files that Owen handed him. “No point in breaking in, if we have the key.” 

“That’s the right answer,” Owen said, and the team filed out of the board room. “But how come you’re the one he trusts, when you’re the one who betrayed him.”

“We’ve all betrayed him,” Ianto said right back. “You’re the one who insisted on opening the Rift, remember?”

“Owen,” said Gwen, “see if you can find anything else familiar in these photos. I’m uploading them to the server.”

“Right,” Owen sighed, “As soon as I check on our sleeping beauty downstairs again.”

 

\--

Ianto felt strange, sitting at Jack’s desk and turn on his computer. He was usually serving Jack or sitting on the other side of the desk. He was so familiar with this room, yet now he was in the wrong place. It was the seat of power for the Hub, but he felt totally out of his element. 

The computer desktop was littered with file folders, nested with subfolders and files. It all seemed extremely disorganized. He was sure Jack knew exactly where he’d put things, but he’d been piling on documents for so long, it had all gotten out of hand. There were several contact lists, some of them written in documents and others imported from archaic software and hand-written files. 

Ianto sighed and looked through the window with the marker-drawn maps of the galaxies. Gwen was pacing outside, and even Toshiko hovered in the doorway, smiling awkwardly in his direction. “Would you like some coffee?” she asked. 

He was so surprised that he consented. Soon, she was placing a steaming mug at his elbow—her coffee not as powerful or flavorful as his own, but with every bit of the care he usually gave to her or to Jack himself.

“Thanks, Tosh,” he said, staring at the mug as if it, too, were alien. So this is how it felt, to be Jack.

He took a sip and went back to work. It took him a while to track the alpha-numeric key in the toxicology report to a file, then to find a matching reference in a contact list. He traced it finally to a warehouse district and looked it up online. Hadwell Labs. 

Some buildings in that neighborhood had long stood abandoned. Others had become trendy art studios and little shops or businesses. There were even some factories still in operation, which had seen better days.  
He recalled that Torchwood had even purchased property in that area at some point. Ianto didn’t even know what the properties were used for, but he’d helped Jack with the contracts. 

“Gwen!” he called. “I’ve found it.”

She came in eagerly and sat across from him. “Who is it, Ianto?”

“Something called the Hadwell labs, Atraya Hadwell is the name.” 

“Maybe they were manufacturing chemical compounds, do you think? And could they have been experimenting on Conway Ellis?” 

"No idea." he said. “Not finding them in any public directory, but we have a phone number." 

Gwen nodded and leaned forward, her eyes wide with excitement. "Let's see what they have to say." 

Ianto punched the number and soon they were on speaker phone. After Gwen explained the investigation, they managed to arrange a meeting later that afternoon. Gwen went to research anything she could find, and put her notes in order, while Ianto packed supplies for the SUV. 

He located recording devices, rift signal detector, and tasers and was trying to stuff them all in one black briefcase, when Owen strolled over. 

"Any change?" he asked.

Owen shook his head--no, Jack was the same--and he just kept standing there, watching Ianto as he rearranged the cords and electronics and things in the case.

Ianto cleared his throat. He wondered how was Owen so capable, yet sometimes so helpless? “Did you need some coffee?” he finally asked.

Owen shook his head. "What are you doing? Don't you have physical therapy to go to?" 

"Supplies for Gwen," Ianto finally managed to push down the case enough to get the clasp attached and closed. "There!" He sighed--he did have a physical therapy appointment for his leg, it was true. "I wasn't going to go," he told Owen. The doctors were supposed to work on his knee and help him walk normally again, but after running after Peter Hudson and packing up Conway's house, it seemed like Torchwood had other plans for him. Therapy just seemed irrelevant right now, and besides, he really didn't like being fussed over. 

"Why not then?" Owen stepped forward and reached for the briefcase. "I'll take this. You go." 

"I've been walking and running anyway. Enough therapy for today," Ianto waved a hand toward the medical bay where Jack was resting. "Don't you have a patient already?"

"That's right, and I don't want another! You need to get your strength back before you start chasing down perps and aliens again." 

Of course, Ianto realized, Owen had motive for looking out for him. He wanted to be the one accompanying Gwen to check up on the Labs. Ianto huffed. “I know what I’m doing. I'm the one who met Peter Hudson earlier.”

“C'mon, give me that.” He reached out to take the hard case of supplies from Ianto, who didn’t let go. 

“We’re ready!” Tosh called. “Owen, let Ianto go. Gwen's expecting him!"

"You're a lousy patient," Owen complained. "You'd better reschedule."

He let go of the case, and the backlash made Ianto stumble. He recovered and pivoted on his ankle toward the door, in a motion that made his knee wrench and twinge. Clamping down on the pain, he made an effort to not even so much as limp as he walked away. He called to Owen behind him, as if he was in command. "Stay with Jack." 

“Jack's not going anywhere," Owen grumbled. "Bloody idiot!" 

"Don't worry," Ianto heard Tosh say as he walked away. He’d have sworn the knee was getting better this morning, but as if it were listening to Owen’s doubts, now it felt twisted up again. Outside the door, he shook out the leg. The knee cracked and his hip felt tight and jerky, but he was able to walk. 

They drove through the city streets slowly in the rain. Gwen kept quiet. It had already been a trying day. Ianto knew the city well and had a strong sense of direction, but soon he started to feel disoriented watching her route. It felt like they were going the wrong way. They should have been heading out to a more industrial neighborhood, but they were heading more toward downtown. “Something’s wrong,” he said to Tosh through his bluetooth. “Check the address again.” 

Gwen smiled an apology at him, "Nothing's wrong."

With that, Ianto realized what they were up to. Tosh and Gwen had been conspiring to make him go to his physical therapy after all. “Don’t do this,” he said. “You shouldn’t go into the labs without backup. Murderer on the loose, remember?”

“Stop fussing,” Gwen said, “I’m just investigating. Done it a thousand times. Plus I’m armed.” 

"So?" 

She pulled the SUV up toward the medical offices and tossed him a smile. “When Jack gets back, don’t you want to be ready for action?”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwen learns more about Cardiff and tries to find out more about the mysterious murder...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life! It's been busy and I was on vacation. sorry for the delay in postings.

The brick and stone buildings in the neighborhood of the labs were old and tall ones, slowly falling apart with time. Gwen pulled up and double-checked the address. There was just a simple number on the door, with a metal phone box. 

When she pressed the Call button, a reedy male voice said, “Who’s there?” She announced herself, and he buzzed her in without another word. Inside, she found an empty stairwell, and walked up to a landing with a row of closed wooden doors. 

_06\. Hadwell Labs._

She knocked twice and entered an office that looked bland and dated, yet somehow homey too. On the walls hung large, framed photos of microscopic structures—cells, cross-sections of plants, and spiky molecules like pollen. 

“Hello, Gwen.” A woman with green eyes and dark hair stood from the desk and came around to shake her hand. She moved quickly and somehow oddly. Her smile seemed unusually broad. “I’m Atraya,” she said, “Atraya Hadwell, Director here at the labs.” 

Gwen perched on the couch and explained why she’d come, without mentioning Torchwood. She handed over the copy of the police report, with the strange compounds they’d identified. 

“Some of my staff worked with Ellis Conway,” Atraya told her. “He collected foreign artifacts and plants. That’s a risk for us, and one we wanted to keep a close eye on.” 

“Are you saying Conway was a threat? Or alien?”

“He’s fully human,” Atraya shook her head. “My team built this facility to study our own foreign plants and materials, you know. We don’t want them getting in the wrong hands.” Her voice had a strange lilt in it, and Gwen could sense it now, through the familiar Welsh accent, something strange and non-native in the way she spoke it. 

“Are you aliens then? Living in Cardiff, blending in?” she asked. 

“I’m sorry,” Atraya paused, looking at her with a sudden hesitation. “I thought Captain Harkness would have briefed you. You said you worked with him?” 

“He’s away right now,” Gwen fibbed. “Yes, it’s our mission to research alien life, like you said. And, protect Cardiff from alien threats.” 

She could see now why Jack might keep this place a secret—a full lab of alien people, tech, and biological samples was an enormous find. Owen would want to be part of it. Toshiko might argue they needed to infiltrate or shut it down. Even Ianto seemed to be unaware of this place. 

“We have mutual interests,” explained Atraya. “Jack wanted to protect the outside world from us, and we want to protect ourselves from the outside world. We keep to ourselves.”

“So, how did you get caught up with Conway Ellis, then?” 

“He dug up a store of alien seeds—it was a tremendous find, really. Someone stashed it a long way from home. Maybe they meant to retrieve it, but something went wrong. It was abandoned here. Once Conway dug it up, we tracked a signal it was giving off.” 

“Then your team started working with him?” 

“He seemed discreet, at first,” Atraya shrugged. “We saw potential in working with him, making use of his property to grow some plants in sunlight. But then he started collecting more obsessively. Going to local thrift stores, online, wherever he could find anything that looked alien.” 

“Any reason someone here might have wanted him out of the picture?” Gwen asked. “I’m trying to understand why these compounds were traced back to your labs.”

“Couldn’t say.” Atraya sighed. “I’ll have to examine them more fully.” 

“I’d appreciate it,” Gwen said. Back at the Hub, Owen would be going through them too, to see what else he could glean, but so far he’d drawn a blank. 

“While you’re here,” Atraya said, standing up, “would you like to see the labs?” 

“Of course!” Gwen stood with her. 

“We don’t keep secrets, with Jack,” Atraya said. “That’s the agreement.” She stood up and walked over to a small cart, beckoning Gwen to follow. Then she picked up a crystal decanter and poured a warm, yellow liquid into two shot glasses. “Try this, first. A rare delicacy.”

“Oh no, I couldn’t,” Gwen tried to protest. Atraya seemed friendly and genuine enough, but better to play it safe. 

“It’s mildly alcoholic.” Atraya raised an eyebrow, then drank from the glass as if to reassure her. When Gwen didn’t take the other glass, she said, “You’re wondering if it’s a toxin I’m immune to, is that it?” 

Gwen shrugged. “No harm in being cautious.”

“Go on,” Atraya said. “I know nothing good would come from hurting someone working for our Captain Jack Harkness.”

Gwen laughed, took the glass and sipped. The liquid was sweet, yet burned a little like a good liqueur. “It’s good.”

“Distilled from a fruit grown on a Brackian moon," Atraya said. "A gift from my neighbors. We try to keep our own food and customs, the creature comforts of home, like any group of immigrants. Like Jack.” 

“Of course,” Gwen nodded, although Atraya’s comment rattled her a little. Jack had lived a long time and talked about other stars, but she’d never considered that he might really be an extra-terrestrial. 

“I’m foreign, yes, but not that different biologically from yourself.” Atraya set the glass down. “Some members of our community will be wearing a shimmer to look like you and I. We get in the habit of blending in.” 

She led the way down a long corridor, and Gwen followed behind her. Atraya's tunic draped out behind her, and her hips swung in a captivating pendulum. She wore long silk pants that almost grazed the floor. Her movements did seem other-worldy and the more time Gwen spent with her, the more intrigued she was. Gwen’s heels clicked on the floor while Atraya’s flats were soft and silent as they walked up an old cement stairwell. 

“Do you know a Peter Hudson?” Gwen asked. It was a question she’d been wondering since she’d arrived. Her voice echoed down the stairs.

Atraya looked back at her. “Everyone knows Peter. He’s our lead botanist and has, let’s say, strong opinions.”

“We caught him breaking through a window into Conway’s house. Said he wanted to retrieve some things.”

“Ah,” Atraya stopped in her tracks and turned. “Peter worked on Conway’s property. Rumor is, he gave Conway little trinkets. Then when Conway started selling things, Peter was angry.” 

“Angry enough to want Conway dead?” Gwen asked. 

“I doubt it.” Atraya stopped and turned to Gwen. “I’d think twice before accusing anyone here, with no evidence. You understand.” 

“Just trying to find the truth." 

“We want that, too,” Atraya said. She kept walking, leading the way into a clean, well-lit laboratory. There were aquariums and terrariums lining the walls, microscopes and centrifuges and other equipment on tables in the long, open room.

Several people were staring at trays or microscopes or moving about the room. They wore long, white lab coats, and they all looked human, though it was hard to tell under some of their protective gear with gloves, hair nets, and protective glasses. 

Atraya led Gwen through the room and into a side room, where bright white line bathed a row of plants along one wall. 

“I recognize these.” Gwen walked over to a yellow stalk with red streaks growing up the trellis that looked just like the beanstalk in Conway’s backyard and the same plants the Traxons had taken. 

“There was a war,” said Atraya. “The ruling family spread a virus to destroy the crops, like these plants that were used as food and building materials. They ruined people’s livelihoods. People had nowhere to go and nothing to eat. So then the rulers could sell their own crops and take slaves from families that couldn’t pay.”

“That’s terrible,” Gwen said. “We met two of the Traxons—they told my team they owed a debt they couldn’t pay. And they took these vines we were growing.” 

Atraya looked at her with a frown. “They’re a long way from home. They must have known what they were looking for.” 

Gwen nodded. “I think they did. They traced the signal too. And, the poisons that killed Conway? Could it be from this plant, or something similar?” 

“Not from this,” Atraya shrugged. “Who knows, there are plenty of toxic plants. Maybe he just took too much of the wrong things.” 

“And anyone here would know what those are?”

“Look,” Atraya showed Gwen a small vine growing with arrow-shaped leaves and purple veins, with black stalks and yellow flowers. “Taken alone, the lover’s vine is an aphrodisiac. It gives you a little high, tastes like marijuana and mint, and makes touch feel quite pleasurable.” She picked off a leaf. “Here, you can taste one.”

“Are you trying to drug me now?” Gwen said half-teasingly, feeling guarded.

“One leaf’s just for flavor,” Atraya laughed, and stuck the leaf in her mouth. “You’d have to eat more for any effects.” 

Gwen smiled and took a leaf as well. “Okay,” she smiled, then made a face at the taste. “Grungy mint.” 

"Exactly." Atraya walked over to another plant. It looked like a sad grass, with long yellow leaves that spread upward then drooped down. “This here’s a Spiral Malady. The root makes a tea that's good for your nerves and prevents heart attacks. Yet taken with the lover's vine, it can put someone with a weakened system in a coma.” She gave a half-smile as if to say, anything could have happened to Conway Ellis. 

“You think someone gave him these plants?” Gwen asked. She was starting to realize, Atraya herself could be quite dangerous with this kind of knowledge.

“I don’t know,” Atraya shook her head. “I do know, he was growing things he didn’t understand. What I can say is, if you mix all of these with this Royal Destroyer”--she pointed above them to gauzy purple mushrooms spouting from a white mycelium fuzz-- “that will eat away at the lining of your veins, and that’s definitely fatal and quick.” She grinned with a mischievous look. 

“So, if someone pointed him in the wrong direction,” Gwen said. “He could have mixed his own poison.”

“Curiosity killed the cat,” Atraya said, her eyebrow dancing over one pretty green eye. “Is the cat to blame or the curiosity?”

“None of us have nine lives,” Gwen sighed, looking at the beautiful and now slightly-menacing foliage around her. “We need answers before someone else’s life is in danger.” 

“We do,” Atraya nodded, suddenly looking serious. “I’ll run some tests with the toxicology results, Gwen. These chemical compounds can be complicated to unravel, but we’ll see what we can find out.” 

\--

When Gwen got back to the Hub, Toshiko had already gone home, and Ianto was sitting by Jack’s bedside, typing away at his laptop. Gwen pulled up a chair and told him the story of her meeting with the odd, alien scientist. 

“I couldn’t find much on Peter Hudson,” Ianto told her. “He’s got no professional presence online, no published papers. No patents. If he’s doing research, he’s not advertising.”

“That matches Atraya’s story,” Gwen nodded. “They’re doing research and development, but only for themselves.” 

“Peter and Jack both had reason to shut Conway down. This Atraya Hadwell, too,” Ianto said, “Do you trust her?” 

“It’s strange,” Gwen said. “She showed me several plants that could be deadly. I should feel threatened, but I didn’t. She was just teaching me something.” There was a little blush in Gwen’s cheek, and Ianto suspected she’d been drinking and that, maybe, she had a little crush on this foreign scientist.

“You like her.”

Gwen thought about it. “She was charming. She distracted me, talking about toxins and plants. I didn’t get enough answers to what exactly they’re trying to accomplish in the labs.” 

“Does it matter?” Ianto asked. “If Jack’s keeping an eye on them? We’re there to solve a murder, not explore their labs.”

“You’re right,” Gwen agreed. They sat in silence for a moment, then she said, “Before Jack, had you ever been with another man?” 

Ianto looked at her in surprise at the odd question. After an awkward silence, he said, “There were boys. Locker rooms affairs. Nothing like this.” He reached out, straightening the sheet around Jack’s arm and brushing the edge of Jack’s shoulder with his fingers. 

“He’s different, isn’t he?” she asked. “More than anyone we know?”

“He’s Jack.” Ianto looked like he didn’t know how else to answer the question. “Go home Gwen,” he said then. “Get some rest.”

Gwen sighed. “You too, love. Don’t stay too late with him.” She stood up, squeezed Ianto’s shoulder, and packed up her things. 

Ianto felt a gloom settle around him as Gwen swept out the door. He turned the lights low, ready for sleep. Jack was breathing steadily, with the machines ticking out his heart beat. 

He tried to settle in for the night, but the glow and the constant EKG waves flashing on the screen kept him restless. He took Jack’s hand, wanting him to know he was there. “Captain, let’s play a game. That’s what we’re good at, right?” 

He let his hands wander over the sheets, smoothing them over Jack’s sturdy frame. He let a hand rest on Jack’s thigh. With his other hand, he squeezed Jack’s arm, and ran his fingertips across Jack’s palms. He thought about three points of contact when you were climbing a ladder, hanging on carefully and trying not to fall. He wanted to anchor Jack, pull him back up into life. 

But this touch, it was like when they were falling into sleep together. Their affection wasn’t usually what you’d call sensual. With sex, they were all in, mouths and hands and thighs rubbing, and sometimes getting it done all too quickly. It was rough, it was hot, it wasn’t this staring down at Jack’s face in silence, waiting. It wasn’t this soft, helpless, wishing things were different. 

“You’re going to heal,” Ianto found himself saying, breaking the unbearable silence. “You’re going to come out of this, Jack, and when you do, I can’t wait to have you.” He leaned forward, speaking into Jack’s ear, licking the curve of it. “We’re playing hide and seek. If I can find you, you win. I’m not going to make it easy, though.” 

He rubbed his nose on Jack’s cheek. “Not going to tell you to blink twice for no and once for yes. I’m not going to tell you to squeeze my hand.” He paused, and kissed Jack’s fingers, letting his tongue stray over the knuckles. He expected a twitch in his fingers at least, if not a movement in his face, a quiet laugh.

Jack stayed blank and sound asleep. 

“I expect more than that from you.” Ianto ran a thumb across Jack’s check, down his neck and in the little hollow above his sternum. Jack loved those places. He loved his neck sucked on, loved the raw vulnerability of it. Ianto moved his hand down, brushing over Jack’s chest, down to his navel and across to his hip bone. 

Ianto remembered feeling shattered, after Lisa, and he remembered the slow touches, the way Jack had pulled him back from that grief. Could he do that? Convince Jack the world was enticing, that he could wake up and enjoy it? He didn’t have to be constantly on guard, ready for a fight, putting up a front. 

“You know what’s next, don’t you?” he asked, his voice low. “Do you want it?” He leaned forward, clasping his left hand over Jack’s, as his right hand still pressed Jack’s hips. 

He dropped his head to Jack’s stomach, feeling the warmth and softness there. “If you don’t, you need to speak up.” 

He could feel the protrusion of his pelvic bone. He reached down, around the knee cap and inward, to the curve and heat of Jack’s inner thigh and inched slowly upward, pulling the flimsy fabric of the gown up and dragging it softly along the hair of his legs. 

“Aren’t you going to answer me?” Ianto murmured, turning his cheek to the other side to look up at Jack’s face. From this angle, he could feel Jack’s breath in his belly, his body rising and falling, and the strange stillness that had settled over him. Jack rarely slept much and even then, he was rarely this peaceful. 

“Sir?” Ianto asked. They never called each other pet names, but he wished for once he had something to say, some word that was just theirs that Jack would respond to. “Sir,” he finally said again, and turned his head over again, dipping his hand under Jack’s gown and reaching in to Jack’s groin. 

He felt the curve where his thighs met, the soft skin lying calm and unheated there, the loose roll of his sex. He twisted it all in his fingers, stroked him, and pressed a kiss to Jack’s stomach. His own body responded, as he started moving his hands, pumping gently, breathing across Jack’s skin. All the while, he watched for some sign, some response. Even in sleep, Jack should be reacting to this, having some dream, some desire. 

Ianto shut his eyes and enjoyed the smell of his lover, the heat of their hands clasped, and felt himself wanting to press their bodies together. Any other day, Jack would have awoken by now, pushed him over, and climbed over Ianto’s body to kiss him senseless, or groaned and pushed under his hands, insistent for more.

The machine kept beeping out his steady heart rate, and his ribs rose and fell as he breathed. Otherwise, Jack’s body was mute.

After a minute, Ianto removed his hand, and leaned over, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Rise and shine,” he murmured. “Sleeping Beauty? Curse is lifted.”

He dropped Jack’s hand, stood up, and shook his shoulders. He was turned on, frustrated, and impatient now. “Are you going to let me win, just like that? Come on, you don’t give up that easily.” 

Maybe something more visceral, more violent was called for to shock his nerves awake again. Ianto scratched gentle lines over Jack’s shoulders and chest with his fingernails, running them up through his hair around his neckline. 

He cupped a palm and slapped Jack’s face once, then a little harder, just to sting a little. 

“Captain!” he barked. Surely a soldier should react to a command. “Captain!” Jack’s face turned to the side under the weight of Ianto’s palm, not resisting and not responding. 

Ianto cupped his face, and settled his neck back in a neutral position. “So you want me to send you off with the aliens then?” he whispered finally. “Is that what it takes, to get you back?” He pressed a kiss to Jack’s forehead, and raised himself to a full standing position.

He stood there for a while, watching Jack sleep. Then he sank back down in the chair, leaning his head into Jack’s side. “So we’ll just rest then, Sir?” 

He watched Jack breathing, until his own eyes closed. Finally, his frustration faded, and he started to drift. 

\--

“Oi, tea boy.” Something was shaking him. An earthquake. A rumble of a motor underneath. An alien claw grabbing and pulling his shoulder. 

Ianto opened his eyes to see Owen. “Huh?”

“Shift change,” Owen said. “My turn in the chair."

Ianto blinked and swallowed. Jack was still lying there, uselessly. Machines beeping. 

“You could have let me sleep.” Ianto rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He tried to stand and a sharp pain jolted through his leg.

“Get out of my med bay,” Owen told him. “Get some proper rest.”

Ianto wanted to protest, but he wanted sleep more, so he plodded upstairs. 

At the top, he peered over the banister to see Owen checking Jack’s fluid levels, adjusting some dials, and making notes in his chart. “I’ll wake you if there’s any change,” the doctor called, without looking up.


	16. All roads lead to Jack but where is he going?

Rhys was singing in the shower. Gwen blinked at the ceiling then turned over. 8am. She sighed, let her eyes close. Just another minute. 

Atraya Hadwell came to mind, her broad smile, her hands as she poured Gwen a drink the other day. She was another mystery. How had she come to Cardiff of all places, and what exactly was going on in the labs? Gwen sighed and sat up. 

There were so many secrets in this city, hidden from plain view. Still, most of the job was just mundane: waiting, searching for answers online, driving, and beating the pavement. An hour later, with Tosh by her side, she was ringing the bell for an apartment across town.

“Valerie Ronan? It’s Gwen Cooper here. I have your name from Doctor Hadwell, at the labs?”

Gwen was surprised by how young the woman was who let them in. She had freckled cheeks and long sandy-colored hair. “It’s Val,” she said. “Atraya said to expect you. It’s about Conway?”

“That’s right,” said Gwen.

Val said, “Sit down, I’ll just make the tea.”

“I’ll help,” offered Toshiko. They went into the kitchen, where Valerie put a kettle on the stove.

“I was sorry to hear about Conway,” Valerie said. She sounded sincere but probably wanted to deflect any blame.

“Lovely place,” Gwen called, looking around. The living room was bright and open. The apartment might be tiny, but light shone through the windows, bathing everything in warmth. Tall bookshelves lined the room, stacked with textbooks and odds and ends. 

Bright photographs of horses were taped on the walls, galloping against a blurred green background. There were also framed botanical drawings done in ink, meticulously labeled with plant parts. 

In the kitchen, a row of notebooks and a laptop were spread across the dining table, including Biochemistry, Pharmacology, and Genetics texts.

“Sorry about all that,” said Val, noticing her looking. “Only next week, it’s finals. I have some papers to finish.” 

“You’re a student?” Gwen was surprised. From what Atraya had said, she’d thought all the others associated with the lab kept their distance from human institutions.

“That’s right. Biology,” said Val. “I don’t always want to be hiding in the labs forever. The others, it’s okay for them. They came here later in life from other places. Some just want to go home. Not me.” She grinned.

“What do you want?” Gwen asked her, genuinely interested. 

“Just a normal life here, a career. Maybe, if I can find the right person, a family? It’s what most people want, I guess.” She shrugged.

“I’m sure you can have all of that,” Toshiko told her. She helped Val carry the tea tray to the coffee table.

“Thanks.”

“I’d never know you were different,” Gwen said. “So if you want a normal life, how did you start working with the Labs and Conway?” 

“My mum sent me here to Earth for asylum, and Peter introduced me around. He’s my guardian angel, really.” Val dropped a sugar cube in her tea and stirred it around. “He took me to Conway’s, to help out, maybe grow some fruits and things I can sell.” 

“You mean, alien fruits?” asked Tosh.

“Right,” Val said. “I can’t grow anything from home in public in a community garden. Besides, if I grew things in an open area, they could hybridize or spread. They’d be exposed to anyone who could ask difficult questions.” She grimaced.

“Right. Someone might realize they’re extra-terrestrial,” Gwen agreed.

“Never say that, by the way, ‘extra-terrestrial.’” Val leaned forward, gesturing, “or ‘alien.’ Some people think it’s rude. They prefer ‘foreign,’ but I don’t mind. It makes us sound kind of exotic.”

“We’ll be careful,” Tosh said. “Thanks.” 

“We heard that Peter and Conway had a falling out?” Gwen said.

Val leaned back. “Conway couldn’t afford to keep the house. He was retired, and the upkeep on the place was too much. He paid for everything—the water, power bill—and we used a lot for the garden. I think he was too proud to tell Peter, so he began selling some things on eBay, even some of Peter’s things, and Peter felt betrayed.” 

“Did you ever witness them having a row over it?”

“Not directly,” Val said. “Peter relied on Conway, for his crops. He couldn’t afford to risk Conway sending him away. He just started complaining around the labs, you know.”

“Did anyone else have a complaint with Ellis or some kind of motive?”

“It’s Warden who protects the labs,” Val said. “He’s like a facilities manager—with some public relations, or rather the opposite. He takes care that everything they do stays secret. He must have gotten wind of it, come in and drugged Conway to shut the whole thing down, or sent that man.”

“What man?” asked Gwen, though her stomach had already jumped into her throat. 

“You know,” Val said. “The man in the coat.”

\--

 

Ianto dreamed he was stuck there monitoring the Hub while Jack was lost forever in space. Then he tossed and turned and dreamed Jack’s injury was just a pretense, and that he’d abandoned the team. 

Next, he dreamed Jack was dead and buried underground, clawing to get out of a grave. 

He awoke suddenly, gasping for air. He’d been the one clawing his way out of his dark dreams. It was oppressive, down in Jack’s bed alone, after another long night sitting by his bedside. Above, he could hear Tosh’s voice, and footsteps moving around in the Hub proper.

He looked at the clock. Later than he’d meant to wake up. Pushing himself upright, Ianto hobbled over to the closet and pulled out a suit. His joints felt stiff. 

Really the suit was Jack’s, but they were roughly the same size. He stretched out the stiffness in his muscles and pulled on the clothing, buttoning everything carefully, tucking it in, and straightening his coat over his shoulders. The one luxury Jack had in his bunk was a mirror, where Ianto smoothed down his hair and checked himself before climbing up to the office. 

Owen looked up from a pile of paperwork on Jack’s desk as Ianto emerged. “It’s about time you’re up,” he said. “My coffee’s not making itself.”

Ianto just looked at him, rolling his shoulders again to ease the stiffness. “For a doctor, you sure are helpless.” He leaned on the desk and waited a moment. “How is he?”

“Gwen’s down there with him. If anyone can talk anyone out of a coma, it’s Agent Cooper.” 

“At least she has a bedside manner,” Ianto returned. Then as Owen growled and turned back to his work, he sighed. “Right. Coffee.” 

He limped down the stairs to stand by the machine, grateful for the ritual of pulling the levers and watching the hot dark liquid pour out into the cups. Meanwhile, he tried to summon energy for the day ahead.

Upstairs, he set out cups around the conference table as they started up the morning briefing. The doctor was spreading out more scans, unintelligible charts with rows of colored lines. Gwen and Tosh squinted at the mysterious pages. 

“Jack’s still producing these antibodies,” Owen pointed to the pages. “His body’s growing weaker.”

“He’s still in there, though?” asked Gwen. “His mind’s intact?” 

“I just don’t know,” Owen shook his head. “Maybe the universe is fixing its mistakes.”

“You can’t say he’s a mistake,” Ianto protested. He’d long ago stopped trying to understand Jack’s miraculous ability, and now it seemed strange and unfair that Jack could just be mortal, even dying. 

“Do you know anything, any creature like him?” Owen fixed him with a stare. “Truthfully, can you say anyone should have the right to exist, to renew themselves completely after death? That’s not how the universe plays the game.”

“Since when,” asked Ianto, “would Jack follow the rules?” 

“Well, right now, he’s lying down there on a rectangular slab, unconscious. And I don’t have his rule book.” 

“So what can we do?” Toshiko asked. 

“Keep him hydrated and monitored,” said Owen, “He’s getting an IV drip.”

“Any field medic could give him fluids,” Tosh said.

“Yeah well,” Owen stood up, his voice rising, “come back when you have a medical degree, and tell me what I should be doing!” 

Ianto ducked his head. He’d seen this play out before. When Owen didn’t know what to do, it was usually Jack he yelled at, the man in charge. Now, it was just the four of them, trying to figure it out on their own.

“There is another option we haven’t considered,” Ianto said slowly.

“No.” Owen stood up, gathering his papers together. 

“If he’s not better by tonight, what are his chances?” asked Gwen.

“Everyone has their time. Maybe this is palliative care,” Owen said. “If he dies, maybe he’ll revive. We don’t know.”

“Maybe letting him die is our best option,” said Gwen. “He’s always come back before.”

“You can’t give up on him,” Ianto protested, around the lump in his throat. “It’s Jack we’re talking about.” 

“Ianto, what’s the other option?” Toshiko asked. 

“We ask for help from the aliens, these Traxons,” Owen said. “That’s what he means.”

“They’re gone,” Gwen said. “Aren’t they?”

“They have some perception filter, but they’re still parked outside,” Toshiko told her. “But we can’t trust them. They could take off, and we’d never see him again.”

“They threatened to sell him into slavery,” Owen pointed out. “Is this really what you want? Is that a better option than death?” 

“What choice do we have?” Ianto asked. “They’re just—well they’re just kids aren’t they?”

“Are they?” Toshiko frowned. “But they’re huge.”

“Yes, baby elephants don’t start out the size of kittens,” Ianto rolled his eyes. “Think about it, what they’ve told us. Their father died. They’re in school.” 

“You said they talked about finding treasure,” Gwen said. “That’s a kid’s fantasy, yeah?”

“So these alien kids, on a joyride,” Owen speculated. “They took off from school on a quest based off some childhood story to find some treasure, in a borrowed sedan, hoping they’d go home as heroes.”

“Then once they got here,” Toshiko said, “They weren’t sure what to do. They froze time so they wouldn’t get tangled in human life—they didn’t count on Jack getting in the way.” 

“Once they were here,” said Ianto, “They asked politely for what they wanted. They could have attacked us, but they didn’t. They offered help.” 

“We gave them the plants, but that wasn’t enough,” Owen said. “They wanted to take Jack with him, as some kind of collateral.” 

“Doesn’t matter,” Ianto shook his head. “If they take off with him, at least he’ll be alive. He can come back someday, if he wants to. We have to give him that chance.”

“What about us? What will we do?” Owen said. 

“What are we doing now?” asked Tosh. “You said yourself you can’t fix this. None of us can.” 

“Everyone has their time,” Owen said. “Don’t you think?”

Ianto just shook his head. “Not him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Act 3. Which means, things always get worse before they get better. We have about 8 chapters left. On the plus side, it's all written and edited at least once, although a more sufficient edit is needed. Key question, how smutty do we want to go? I feel I went a bit too far on the first draft;) 
> 
> As I'm editing this, I realize I'm not certain whether this is even a thing in the UK--elderly people who can't afford to maintain their houses and are worried about funds. It made sense for me in the story, and is certainly the case here in the States as social support is limited and rents are rising. I have no beta so please let me know if something sounds weird to you. 
> 
> Happy Labor day weekend! Or Sunday, depending where you are.


	17. Lost in space

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stubborn prat that he is, Jack shows no signs of reviving, so the Torchwood team ship their useless Captain off to more space adventures. Tosh makes a sudden decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh yeahhh, sorry for the posting delay. On the happy side, I have a new job! On the sad side, it's keeping me busy. Also I just finished binge watching all of Lucifer. Guess I have a thing for Pansexual Immortals :D

By late morning, Jack was even paler than before, as if all his resurrections had caught up with him and now were happening in reverse. Across his body, small scars appeared where his skin typically appeared smooth and clear. 

Dark gashes and raised white lines grew across his arms and hands. Some of them must have been knife cuts and everyday scrapes. A patch on his chest was raised and mottled like a healed burn, and one shoulder was pitted with craters, like the marks left by measles or a pox. One finger slowly turned bluish, as if the circulation was shutting off. 

Owen observed this with a growing horror. It went far beyond the sick, clammy pallor that he had witnessed on hundreds of dying patients. Of course, Jack couldn’t just die like a normal person. His true wounds had to emerge in lurid detail.

Owen began unhooking the oxygen monitor, preparing the body for transport. He felt irritated and confused how he’d agreed to this. “Why are we letting Tea Boy make the decisions here?” he grumbled. 

He knew why, though. Ianto was the only one willing to making the hard decision, when none of the rest of them knew what to do. If Ianto of all people was willing to let the Captain go, how could the rest of them stand in the way?

Owen slid the saline drip line out of Jack’s arm and pulled off the heart rate monitors from his chest. He wrapped the cords up and wheeled the machines back into the corner for storage. 

Ianto’s soft footsteps padded down the stairs. “Toshiko’s making contact with the visitors.”

“You really sure about this?” Owen asked again. 

“Has something changed?” Ianto took a step toward the hospital bed, looking at Jack. 

“His condition’s progressed.” 

The continual beeping had gone quiet, and there were no longer tubes and wires snaking out from Jack’s figure on the table. Ianto smoothed the bedding. He reached out to touch a deep scar emerging on the Captain’s cheek, and looked up, alarmed. “How?”

“Wish I knew.” Owen folded his arms, frowning down at their patient. “His body somehow never forgot all those old wounds.”

Slowly, Ianto peeled the sheet back to look at Jack’s torso, at the burn mark and a new abrasion of tissue that was forming like a bullet wound on his chest, revealing a pit of dark scarring. Ianto pressed his fingers to the skin, taking in a sharp breath. “Do you think he could feel it all, all this time?’’

“Doubt it,” Owen replied. “Did you want a moment alone?” 

Ianto swallowed. “Let’s do this.” 

The rain had let up, and the sky was patchy with bright clouds. Owen and Ianto wheeled out Jack on a stretcher, with Tosh walking beside them. Gwen stayed inside, monitoring them on the comms. 

The aliens were waiting beside their ship, their skin looking slimy and fatty in the daylight. The green and red hues of their skin appeared brighter, making them stand out weirdly in the surroundings. Owen glanced around, hoping no one was watching. 

“Hello, again.” Toshiko took the lead, stepping forward to greet the Traxons. “You said you can cure him. Is that still true?”

“We will heal him,” said Charry, wobbling her head. “We are 95 percent certain.”

“In the last 5 percent scenario,” added Algarry, “he will die in any case.”

“Cheery,” said Ianto.

“Now listen here.” Owen took a step forward. “Once he’s healed, you bring him right home. We’ve given you the plants and the gifts that you wanted.”

“Hmmm,” they answered. The non-commital humming seemed to be their typical reply. The Torchwood team still hadn’t figured out quite what that meant. 

“Look him up,” Ianto said. “Captain Jack Harkness. You already know he’s a fixed point. Take him away from Cardiff, it would be a danger to the universe. You don’t want that.” 

“We will help him now.” The Traxons stepped forward, bending down to pick up the cot. 

“I’m going with him,” Toshiko said as they took hold of Jack’s stretcher. She stepped up to them, looking comically smaller than either of them. 

“Toshiko!” Owen said, “You can’t.”

“Someone has to,” she shot back. She turned to the aliens, “How long will it take?” 

“A day, perhaps, longsides.” If they had an opinion on her joining them, they didn’t react.

Toshiko looked at Ianto. “I’m not leaving him.” Ianto just looked sad, as if torn between not wanting her to go, and feeling guilty he wasn’t the one going along. Toshiko took hold of Jack’s ankle, protectively. 

Ianto nodded. “Thank you, Tosh.”

“Keep your comms on,” Gwen’s voice was in their ears. “Toshiko, don’t you dare let them take you away from Earth.” 

“I’ll update you, soon as I can,” Tosh said. She stepped forward again. 

“One more thing,” Ianto lunged forward, gripping the end of the stretcher and stopping them in their tracks.

The Traxons looked at him curiously. 

“What is it?” Tosh said.

Ianto fumbled at his neck. There was the chain that Jack had tenderly fastened around it, with deft and strong fingers. Maybe it was just a gift. Or maybe it had some power of protection. 

Bending down, Ianto threaded it behind Jack’s clammy neck, and fastened it around his throat. Ianto sniffed, then looked up with a firm nod. 

“Let’s go,” Tosh said softly, as Ianto turned away, staring at the ground, his jaw clenched. Once again, the Traxons took hold of the cot once and walked up the stairs into their ship. 

The door shut without any noise, a white rectangle in a white surface, and its edges disappeared, until Owen and Ianto, standing there, couldn’t make out the shape of any door at all. A minute or two passed.

“Do you suppose we should wait?” 

“They’re gone, mate,” said Owen gently, patting Ianto’s shoulder. They turned to look at each other, and then turned back to the ship, but it had faded away behind its perception filter. 

They looked at the weather-worn boards of the boardwalk, the railings and the bay they had seen each day as they came and left the Hub. They looked through the spot where Jack had disappeared, and waited. 

 

\--

 

With a plump hand, Charry pulled a white sphere down from the edge of the bunk where they had laid Jack down to rest. Toshiko watched from behind her. There was barely room for two people standing in the space. 

Charry lifted the sphere down by its narrow handle, squeezed some gel from the wall onto the flat surface of its side, and settled it on the bottom of Jack’s right foot. It hung there. She pulled a second sphere from the wall and attached it to his other foot. 

So Jack was plugged in, to the ship. Tosh couldn’t see any readouts, no lights, and no change in the color of his skin. The bunk was big enough so Jack could have sat up comfortably, with curved walls. It was barely big enough to fit one of the Traxons’ large figures though. 

“He will be scanned.” Argally said. In the ship, his voice buzzed and echoed. “Come.” He turned to Tosh, and it took a moment for her to understand his hand gesture, guiding her back out of the room into the main cabin. 

In the pilot deck were two large, curved seats. Tosh stood awkwardly as the Traxons moved around her, settling into the seats. Charry touched the black, smooth dashboard beneath the windshield, and the ship whirred to life. 

A grey film on the windshield faded, and outside, she could see Ianto waiting. Tosh waved, but he just stared glumly. She felt a rush of fear, realizing they were invisible. 

“We can’t leave,” Tosh said, as the motor grew louder, thrumming around them. 

“The energy is required,” Charry explained. 

“Of course,” Tosh realized. They would somehow need to power whatever medical module they had plugged Jack into.

A low grinding sounded. Something flashed in the cabin, and suddenly the alien was making a noise she didn’t understand. “The signal sent! We’re exposed!” 

Argally leaned over and slammed door to the cabin shut, sealing them inside and cut off from where Jack was resting. The floor whirred, and Tosh grabbed the seat in front of her as the ship lifted and tilted under her. She felt a wave of nausea. They were pulling away from the ground.

“Wait!” Toshiko called.

“It has sent an emergency beacon!” Argally said. “Now they can track us. We must go.” 

Charry had already settled in her seat, flipping switches and tapping at the dashboard that lit up under her fingers. 

Toshiko could feel her heart in her chest, her breath coming fast, as the world was spinning out from under them. “Where are you taking us?” 

But they didn’t answer. Argally slid across the room and punched lightly at the wall a few times, as if hitting an elevator button. Then he walked back toward them. “If we’re caught in violation, it won’t go well for us!”

Meanwhile, Charry stayed focused on the driver’s panels. “In orbit, we may mask the signal,” she said. “Beam it out another direction.” 

The ground was still falling away, an amazing rush of buildings. The dizziness was just a part of the view. Soon, Tosh could see all Wales, all Europe, then Africa, and soon the whole green and blue sphere was underneath them, spinning in a marvelous vertigo. 

A beeping sounded in the cabin, and Argally grabbed a control and frantically pushed buttons.

“Earth has many orbitals we did not calculate for!” Charry shouted. 

“Orbitals?” Toshiko repeated. Trying to piece their words together, she suggested, “We have satellites orbiting earth. They send out signals, too.” 

“Satellites?” Charry echoed the word, staring out into the darkness that hovered outside the windshield.

Tosh realized she was still wearing her headset. She pressed the button and called out – “Owen? Gwen?” 

There was no answer.


	18. Chapter 18

Once, during a romp through a particular forested area of Bute Park, Jack had hinted to Ianto that not all the plant life in the local gardens was native to planet Earth. 

“Just what we need—an alien rash,” Ianto had said sarcastically, but it hadn’t stopped them from burying themselves in a leafy enclosure, and getting just naked enough to have a bit of fun. 

The only kind of rash Ianto got that day was from too much soil and the sticks ground in his knees. Still, he remembered Jack’s throw-away comment as much as the adventure. 

So in the morning, he’d suggested a walk through the park to scout out alien plants. 

“What are we looking for?” Gwen asked as they walked through the winding paths. 

“Something that looks alien,” Ianto said. “Like the plants at Conway’s, or in the labs.” 

There weren’t many people out, on a weekday. There were mothers with strollers, and some retired couples, and a whole lot of green plants that looked like, well, just like any other plants to Ianto’s eye. 

“At least it’s a beautiful day,” Gwen smiled up, the breeze in her face. 

Ianto didn’t see the joy in bright sunshine. It blinded you, for one thing. However, he felt like he could breathe again for a little while out here. The air underground had been stifling, or maybe it was the weight of worrying about Jack. 

“I looked up the eBay name, Dream Alliance, that Conway used to sell off all the alien tech,” he told Gwen by way of conversation. “Turns out Dream Alliance is the name of a race horse.” 

“Hold on,” Something tickled Gwen’s mind. “At Val’s place, there were photos of race horses.” 

“This horse was owned by a group of amateurs, who all paid a weekly sum to get him trained.”

“A group, like a collective of people?” asked Gwen. “Perhaps, using that name means Conway had help setting up that site. Someone on the inside?” 

Ianto shrugged. “Could be. Who do you think though?”

They turned a bend past a grove of trees, and Gwen stopped. A long reddish vine was growing over the ground and up the branches of an gnarled oak. “That looks familiar,” she said. “What Atraya called the lover’s vine, maybe?” She pulled out her phone to compare it with the photos.

“I’ll get a closer look over here,” Ianto stepped forward, into the smaller gravel path winding through the bed of plants, to see if there was other alien-looking foliage among them.

He saw a flash of color among the green, and remembered something Toshiko had told them. On other planets, under other suns, the leaves might end up more yellow or red or even purple, rather than green, because of the types of light that reached them. 

He heard a branch breaking and a shuffle of footsteps. A sharp sound behind him cut through the air. Something whizzed by Ianto’s ear like a fast bee, and a shout behind him. He whirled around toward the noise. 

Gwen stared at him, her mouth open and eyes wide, clutching something at her neck. When her hand came away, there was a little blood. She was holding something in her hand. She swayed, and Ianto ran back to her. Her eyes rolled backward as she collapsed. 

“Gwen!” Her body was a heavy weight as under Ianto’s arms as he caught her and lowered her to the ground. He looked around furiously, but all he saw was a figure with long, sandy colored hair flying out behind her, down the path. 

He looked down. “Stay with me.” In Gwen’s hand was a dart, like a syringe with a sharp needle at the tip and a hollow body that must have contained a toxin. He picked it up from her, careful not to touch it. Gwen’s eyes were fluttering. 

He pressed his earpiece. “Owen! Need backup, Gwen’s down!” 

He left her there on the ground and ran down the path after the girl. Twigs and gravel crunched beneath his shoes.

The path forked, twisting around among the greenery in a long meandering maze. He thought he heard footsteps, then a voice. 

It was just another couple, meandering down the path. There wasn’t any trace of the woman who’d tracked and taken aim at them. 

\--

 

Tosh opened her eyes to the white, clean, and sterile walls around her. They weren’t quite plastic or metal, but they gleamed as if they had their own light. 

She was on the alien ship, with something warm at her back and a weight on her arm. He breathed. It was Jack. There hadn’t been any other space to lie down besides the hard floor, so she’d crawled in beside him sometime later in the night. 

She rolled over and found his eyes were open, bright and clear. She felt him breathe again as she shifted, and his arm settled back on her waist. 

“You’re awake.” She reached an arm around him, without thinking, “It’s good to see you.”

“I am,” he said, his thumb stroking her side. With the faintest smile, his eyes crinkling at the sides. “I’m assuming we’ve been whisked away to our visitors’ capsule?” 

“We didn’t know what else to do.” She let her hand rest on his arm, feeling the slightly rough hair along his skin. “How do you feel?” 

His temperature felt normal, and he looked rested. He wasn’t sweaty or feverish any longer. He stretched his body taut, and then curled up against her. “Little stiff. Maybe I slept too long.”

“It’s good to have you back,” she murmured. “We’re in orbit, I think. They said they couldn’t stay on the ground.”

She could feel his body, the thrum of his heart beat in his chest, his thighs hot on hers. It was just a normal reaction, she knew. She shifted her hip away, trying not to be awkward.

Just once, they’d ended up in bed together, after he’d set her free from the prison where UNIT had kept her indefinitely. She’d been unable to sleep that night, and he’d held her until they both drifted off. In the morning, it only seemed natural they’d woken up, kissed, and she’d climbed over him. 

They never really talked about it. For a long time after she’d settled in Cardiff, she thought he must be waiting for her to initiate something. She never did. 

Toshiko sat up softly. 

“Thank you,” Jack murmured. 

“What for?” she asked. 

“Whatever happened, you looked after me.” Then he wriggled, kicking his feet, and finding the pads attached. “What are these?” 

“Let me help,” she said, feeling along the strange metallic patches. “It’s how they patched you into the ship.” She found a latch at the bottom of the device and pulled it open. 

“Ow!” he cursed, reaching down to his ankle. 

“Sorry,” Tosh said. “I don’t know if I should be removing them, actually.”

Jack nodded. He started to remember now. “I’ve seen these before. They plug into the primary pressure point on your foot to measure diagnostics and inject fluids.” 

Tosh reached for his other foot. “Want me to release this one?”

“Just leave it for now,” Jack said. “You know, I suspect this machine needed another human being to know how to cure me.” He patted the walls, squinting in at the small metal holes, and examining them. “They’re used for long distance travel, to keep up circulation if you’re immobilized too long, but they’d be calibrated for the Traxons.” 

There was a single red point in his foot where the needle had penetrated, and he rubbed at it. Jack was wearing just a plain gown and a thin robe, with his legs sticking out from under the sheets. Toshiko found herself distracted by the hair on his legs, and his long toes. 

“Everyone all right?” asked Jack. “Ianto, the team?”

“They’re fine,” Tosh said. “I tried to convince the aliens to take us home, but I’m not sure they’ll cooperate.” 

“I’m very convincing,” Jack lifted an eyebrow, which elicited a smile from Toshiko. “And I’m ready. Cut me loose.” He nodded and wiggled his toes, and Toshiko took hold of the other machine at his foot, and unlatched it. 

Jack yelled and then went pale. He fell back onto the pillow. At least he was in a white, neutral space with nothing exciting or stressful on the walls. Otherwise the world would have been spinning. 

“Too soon,” he murmured, and welcomed unconsciousness. 

\--

The long table in the Hub was spread with a mess of artifacts gathered from Conway Ellis’ home. Owen and Ianto had cleared off the ping-pong games and electronics projects. Old cups and plates had been tossed away. 

Now there were small, square devices, round stones, and long, sharp twiggy things. There were skateboard-shaped objects in bright colors, at least one glass bottle with a dark green liquid. There were circuit boards and tools, and things that may have been tools or vases or who knew. 

Neatly stacked beside them were the boxes, where Ianto was carefully bubble wrapping, labeling, and packing away the artifacts. Whether or not they could guess their purpose, each new treasure would be properly archived at least. 

Gwen was lying on the sofa, resting after she’d been attacked earlier. Owen kept an eye on her, while Ianto seemed to immerse himself in organizing and labeling and bubble wrapping the artifacts. He was inhaling the sweet scent of Sharpie marker, when Owen fished out a shiny chain from the debris. 

“Mate,” Owen said. “Wasn’t this yours?” 

Ianto looked up. Something bright dangled from Owen’s thin fingers, and Ianto reached out to lift it up. It was a silver necklace chain with a distinctive twist pattern.

“It’s the match,” he said, “for the one Jack gave me.” He looked up at Owen, anticipating the scorn before it came. “It’s some kind of protective tech.” 

“Do you think he took it from Conway?” 

“Could be,” Ianto shrugged. “Peter Hudson’s story checked out. The SUV was over by Conway’s the night Peter saw him there. Jack came in late.” 

“So, our Captain went for a visit, then took some of the more interesting items from Conway’s collection,” Owen mused. 

“I’ll run some tests,” Ianto said. “See if this gives off any signal.” The chain sparkled in the light, as if there were tiny gems embedded in the material. 

Gwen moaned from the couch and stirred, sitting up. 

“Gwen, careful!” Owen rushed over to her side. “Don’t rush it.”

Ianto brought over a glass of water. 

Gwen was trying to sit up. “Did you see who did this?”

Ianto shook his head. “It was a woman with long, blonde hair,” he said. “She was wearing a sundress. Yellow, I think. I couldn’t catch her.”

“That sounds like Valerie,” Gwen said. “The student. Friend of Peter’s.”

“Peter blamed Jack for Conway’s death,” said Ianto, “So is this some sort of revenge, coming after you?”

“She hit you in the neck,” Owen said in his matter-of-fact way. “If she wanted to kill you, you’d be dead.”

“So she’s trying to scare us off,” Gwen said. “Do you still have that dart?”

“Yeah,” Owen said. 

“Let me take it to the labs,” suggested Gwen. “Maybe Atraya will have some answers.”

\--

When the world swam back into focus again, Toshiko was hovering above Jack’s bed side. 

“I’m okay,” he said, more breathlessly than he meant to. “Give me a minute.”

Something burned against his collarbones, and he reached up and found the chain Ianto had fastened around his neck. As he touched it, sensations came swinging back, memories from when he was unconscious. 

He felt how Owen had fussed over him, how Ianto had cajoled and demanded, helplessly, that he wake up. How Gwen had talked to him about things they couldn’t say aloud to one another. 

“Jack?” Tosh was hovering near him, like a lifeline to reality around him. He was aware of the cold, white walls, the hard surfaces. 

“Fine, I’m fine.” The spinning was slowing to a halt, and he let his breathing settle. “Just lightheaded.” 

“Take your time,” she said, although he could feel her anxiety in the way she fidgeted slightly. She studied him, lying back down at his side.

He blinked at his feet, where she’d released him from the medical systems. In his time, the system was more refined and had a transition switch to ease you off slowly. But these earlier versions dropped the chemicals suddenly, and he was feeling the side effects. 

At least Ianto had fastened the stabilizer device around his throat, which should protect him from the more drastic effects, and Toshiko was here beside him, looking after him. 

Yet who would look after her, or the others left down on Earth? He pressed his face into Toshiko’s shoulder, feeling the soft bounce of her hair and her hand warm on his back, comforting. She smelled enticing, and he took in a deep breath. 

Slowly he rolled over, toward her, and pulled himself to a sitting position again. He ducked his head to kiss her cheek.

“Jack.” 

He smiled down then swung his feet over the edge, around her small body, and slowly stood up. He stumbled, but Tosh reached for him. 

“Careful!”

Jack pushed one hand against the wall to brace himself. His body ached, but that was from resting for too long. He needed to walk off the soreness. Tosh had reached out to steady him, and he tossed her a smile. 

“Let’s go home.”

Her smile in return was brilliant. “Thought you’d never ask.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwen goes back to the Lab for answers, Jack tries to take a side trip, and Ianto gets an unexpected alarm.

“It’s just a basic fast-acting sedative,” Atraya held up the poison dart that Gwen had brought her to study. “Synthesized on Earth. Anyone could have done this.” 

The lab was cluttered with equipment lining the shelves, but tidy. Atraya set the dart down on the tray where she’d been taking residual samples. “I realize that doesn’t help you much.”

Even in this sterile room, Gwen felt better, more solid, just being next to her. After hours, the lab was quiet, and it was just the two of them. 

“I appreciate it, really.” Gwen said. “Look, Ianto saw a short woman with long, sandy hair running from the scene. Remind you of anyone?”

“I really couldn’t say,” Atraya said with an apologetic smile. 

“Valerie Ronan, for example?” Gwen pressed. 

Atraya sighed. “The man in the dark coat,” she said. “You said there are a lot of people with that description, right? And only one Captain Harkness tied to this case.”

“He did visit Conway,” Gwen said, “But he didn’t murder him.” She had to admire Atraya’s loyalty, standing behind Valerie when the evidence was clear, the same way she would defend Jack. “I promise, if Jack wanted someone dead, he’d have less messy ways of getting his point across.”

“I know,” Atraya nodded, with a little smile. “I’m on your side. But if you’re implying Val killed Ellis, then attacked you, let’s say I’d be surprised.” 

“Maybe she’s covering for someone,” Gwen said, “Or trying to get my attention?”

“But why?” Atraya looked puzzled. She switched off her microscopes and machines. Then she held up the dart. “I’ll discard this—unless you still want to keep it?”

“We’ll need it for evidence.” Gwen took the dart, tucking it back in the plastic bag. Touching it again, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

“I’d offer you a drink, but you should probably avoid alcohol tonight, with that sedative still in your system,” Atraya said, with a little smile, “But I can make you a cup of tea. Let’s talk in my office.” 

Gwen allowed her to take her elbow and lead her down the hall. 

\--  
Aliens head back to earth

Jack pushed open the door, and found himself in the control room. It was larger than the compact bunk behind him, yet still slightly claustrophobic, at least with the two aliens, himself and Toshiko by his side. 

The Traxons were looking out of the window in serious discussion. Charry sat with her tail tucked under her, while Algarry stood, pointing out at the stars with a bulbous finger. Under the windshield, a long black control panel blinked with shapes and symbols, navigation readings and touch controls. They were advanced for this time period, yet still what Jack considered rudimentary. 

“So, where are we then?” Jack’s voice boomed in the small space, conversational and amiable. “Headed off to your planet, I’d guess?” 

The green fellow turned, “Emerged from the long sleep?”

“I’m awake, yeah,” Jack said. “So, what route are we following?”

“How do we get home?” Toshiko pushed her smaller form in beside Jack. 

“We must pay our debts to the clan,” said Charry. “So you must come with us.” 

“We can’t help you!” Tosh said.

“Where are we, exactly?” Jack asked, keeping his voice calm. Not expecting an answer, he squinted at the readings on the dash to see what he could find. There were little blinking dots and numbers in a proto-Universal Galactic script that he could only partly read. 

There were stars visible outside the windshield, and he linked them, looking for landmarks. But they were shifting, with different patterns than the charts seen from Earth. 

“That streak of white across the sky isn’t as bright as the Milky Way viewed from Earth, so we must be heading out of the galaxy,” Jack pointed out, glancing at Tosh. 

The aliens looked at each other anxiously, humming. “Hmm.”

Jack plugged a few digits in his vortex manipulator, and a holographic sphere of lights beamed out from his wrist, showing the white spiral of the milky way with its arms twirling around the glowing center. Their little blue mark floated in one arm of the spiral. 

“What’s it doing?” Toshiko leaned in. “Is that us?”

“Here’s our map,” Jack said. “We’re here, out at the edge, between the Perseus and Cygnus arms of the galaxy. One arm left before we reach outer space. Which means we’re going fast, but not fast enough to jump between galaxies yet.” 

He gave a meaningful look to the Traxons. Argally’s head wobbled in agreement again. His estimates were right. 

“Rusty, but I’ve still got it!” he said. “You’ve got to go slow enough to avoid the stars and debris at the edge of the galaxy, then once we’re clear, you’ll hit warp speed and jump home, but where is that? How far are we going?” he stared at them. 

“You wouldn’t know it.” Charry dismissed him. 

“Oh, do you want to bet!?” Jack said, standing up to his full height. Jack was bigger than a lot of men, and that alone could make him seem more intimidating. But neither his size nor his charm had much affect on their kidnappers. The giant looming above him just looked unimpressed. 

Besides that, he was suddenly chilled by their indifference and realized he only had on a thin hospital gown. He didn’t look like a Captain of anything, now. 

“Jack,” Toshiko put a hand on his arm like a caution. 

He threw her a half-smile, and his demeanor changed. “You know what we could do?” he said, his eyes gleaming. “There’s a little market out in Carina. You can buy anything—tools, food, livestock. A lot of things we could use back home.” 

“You’re not suggesting we take a side trip,” Toshiko told him. “I can’t even count the number of ways that could go wrong.” 

“Sure—we’ll get whoever’s chasing us off our tail. Catch a tail wind off the rift vortex, and jet over to explore for a few hours,” he said. “What do you say?” He raised his eyebrows at the Traxons with a charming, enthusiastic grin. 

“How would we even pay for anything at some galactic market?” Tosh crossed her arms, as usual trying to solve this with logic.

“Easy—scrounge up currency from my old accounts,” Jack shrugged. The Time Agency had set up accounts all throughout the ages and regions, just in case someone got lost. 

Tosh laughed and shook her head. 

Jack just grinned at her and the Traxons. He needed this distraction—couldn’t she see that? “Come on, Tosh—all the stars, we’re out among them,” he said, lowering his voice seductively. “Your whole life could go by, and you may never have this chance again.” 

Toshiko looked out toward the streaks of white, flying by them, the stars spreading out around them, and other rockets whizzing by. She was considering it. He could tell. 

“We have no time for shopping vacations.” Argally’s curt tone cut through the magic. 

“Just a quick stop.” Jack shrugged, rubbing his neck. His fingers brushed the chain fastened around his throat. 

In a flash, he remembered the feeling of Ianto’s voice murmuring to him, Ianto’s fingers brushing his collarbone. He swallowed hard. Suddenly he wanted to be nowhere else than back home, pulling the team close. He’d be grateful if they all made it through the adventure.

As the Traxons considered him, the ship suddenly tilted and jerked. Jack grasped the back of a chair, and reached another hand to steady to Toshiko. 

His fingers grasped onto Charry’s hair along with the back of her chair, and she let out a howl, jerking her head away. She turned, growling at him. 

“Sorry!” 

Finally the equilibrium of the ship kicked in again, and Jack lifted his hands. 

Charry turned to look at Algarry, rubbing at her neck. “What is causing this?” 

“Asteroid turbulence?” Algarry suggested, gesturing in a big confused shrug. 

Jack huffed, glancing in disbelief out the window. “Do you see asteroids?!” The night outside looked dark. There were bright lights and dark patches in the distance. “Not much space dust floating just here. This is something else.”

“He’s right,” said Charry, just as the ship jerked again and an alarm started going off. 

“What’s that?” Toshiko called. 

The soft beeping turned shrill. 

“We’ve been found?” Algarry cried. “No, no, no.” He plopped himself in the chair next to Charry, and zoomed in on his controls.

“We’ll have to run,” Charry said. “Beat them home. I’ll dial up the warp thrusters. Get the shields online.”

“We need to get off the main route!” Jack said, leaning over her shoulder. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. Whoever’s after you—" 

“They found us!”

The Traxons punched and pinched and tapped the controls in front of them, and meanwhile, Jack opened his wrist strap again, pressed a few buttons, and shook his head. 

“There’s no beacon,” he shouted, over the din of the alarm that was still beeping at them. “No one following us, no ships incoming.”

The Traxons peered out the window and looked back at him. 

“In fact, it’s pretty quiet out there,” Jack continued. “We’re basically on a deer trail, not even a suburban highway, is it?” 

Charry turned to look at him, then punched a few other things in her controls. “We are in the wilderness of stars,” she told them. 

“Is it something with star flares, then? Something interfering with the electronics?” Toshiko hypothesized.

“It is the emergency alarm!” Charry called. “But why? If we’re not being chased?”

“You’ve been neglecting your maintenance haven’t you?” asked Jack. “When’s the last time you checked the stabilizers? Or did an oil change?”

Algarry looked at Charry. “We took the old ship, but she should be fine.”

“Well, I am feeling better,” said Jack smugly.

“So?!” Algarry said. “You are unrelated.” 

He’d annoyed them now. Toshiko had to laugh—Jack did tend to make everything about himself.

“You said that your signals latched onto the Rift!” Jack continued. “Well what’s stronger than Earth’s rift?” He chuckled then, but his breath came with a heavy wheeze, his chest rising and falling and his eyes wide open and slightly wild.

“It’s you!?” 

“You’re interfering with our ship?” Charry turned and stared at him, then looked back at the controls, and back at him. She looked like she might start to growl at him again. 

“Not on purpose!” Jack called. “Your stabilizers must be malfunctioning. If my life force is linked to the Rift, there’s a magnetic charge beaming out from my body, to the Earth’s rift below. It’s like a spring— the further I get, the more tension builds, the more it wants to release and fling me back home!” he grinned at Toshiko now.

“What will happen to the ship?” asked Tosh. She looked like she didn’t quite believe him, which was fair. The Rift didn’t manifest all over the Earth, so how could it be pulling into orbit, and beyond, out into the galaxy? Whether true or not though, the aliens looked like they were believing the story. 

“If you don’t take us back,” Jack said, emphasizing every word, “it’s going to yank this entire ship— all of us--back to Earth, with all its force.”

The aliens exchanged a frightened look.

“We’ll become a crater in the face of the Earth’s crust, just another extinction waiting to happen.” Jack circled his hands around a small, imaginary ball of energy, and yanked them apart with a swift motion. “Boom!”

As if responding to him, the ship rumbled as if it might all pull apart. The chairs shifted, rattling in their anchors, and Charry clutched at the dashboard from her seat. 

They whirled and plunged. Toshiko shrieked and held on to the back of a seat, trying to hunker down in a squat position. There was no solid ground left under their feet any more. She tumbled. 

Jack reached out for her, but they just lost ground together and ended up floating, bumping their heads. There went the gravity field. The aliens were shouting, but Jack and Tosh could no longer understand them. 

Charry was madly poking at dials and yelling, gripping the console while her feet blew out above her. 

“We’ll never make it!” Tosh called. 

That mad grin was back on Jack’s face, remembering all the times the Tardis had thrown him off his feet, clutching for the Doctor. “It’s not the first ship I’ve been on that needed better stabilizers!” 

“What have you done?” she yelled.

Things went dark and got bumpier, and there was a screaming noise as if the very air itself was terrified of them hurtling through it. The atmosphere ripped out around them as they plunged down and downward toward earth. 

“We have turned!” Charry called. “May the gods return us in time.”

The ceiling was at Toshiko’s back, and some knob or other was grinding in her spine. The pain was incredible, and she screamed along with the ship. 

When she breathed in, she just heard Jack’s voice in her ear, like a gleeful child about to go on a field trip, “We did it! We’re going home!”

There was a loud clunking sound then, and the ship’s high-pitched grinding noise intensified, then settled to a low growl. They floated back to the floor, grabbing the seats to avoid dropping with a hard impact. 

The beeping had stopped, and the only noise left was the hurtling of the engine. They could feel it in the skin of the ship all around them, still hurtling them forward.

Through her hyperventilating and the thunder of her heartbeat pounding in her ears, Tosh called, “What’s happening?”

Sunlight poured through the windows on Jack’s face. “Gravity!”

They squinted out the window, leaning in for dear life as they plummeted. There was a long string of planets, and a fat blue planet with swirls of white like frosting on a cupcake, and a great wide sea. 

They watched the continents of Earth below, more vibrant in color than any globe, the cloud formations locked in spirals and waves. There was the UK, the great mass of land with its fingers sticking into the waters around it, and the broad map of Cardiff with its rivers and skyline and parks coming up around them. 

Would they plunge into the sea? Would they crash into Earth? Tosh had seen photos and video, but nothing compared to the shock and dizzy beauty in front of her. It was magnificent. 

Charry called to Algarry, who drew a line with a finger across the console. Tosh looked to Jack. She could feel him pulling in heavy breaths. His eyes wide, he looked over at her and reached out for her hand. She felt his sweaty palms and trembling fingers. 

Then they turned back to stare ahead at whatever fate awaited them. 

 

\-- 

Sirens went off in the Hub, and Owen ran up the stairs to check the monitors. An alert flashed up on Toshiko’s screen with a view of the earth floating in the solar system and an object hurtling toward them.

Ianto ran to his side. “What is it?” 

“Something’s headed toward us. Is it a missile? Are we under attack?”

“It’s Jack!” Ianto shouted, his eyes growing wide. “They’re falling through the atmosphere!” 

“How could you possibly know that?” Owen said 

“I can feel it.” Ianto turned over his palm. There, glowing in his palm was the necklace chain they’d found among Ellis Conway’s things. It was gleaming with a blue inner light. Ianto’s eyes were impossibly wide. “Come on!” 

“Where?” Owen called, mystified as Ianto gripped his elbow and dragged him toward the door. 

They both launched themselves onto the lift, and Ianto activated it with a little jump and psychic push. With a mechanical clunk, the elevator slid them upwards toward the quay. 

“Come on, come on, come on!” Ianto chanted, urging it faster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jack realizes they are in the outer spirals of the milky way, which means they are heading away from earth and out beyond the galaxy. To help gauge where they are headed, he suggests they visit a market in smaller galaxy relatively close (in intergalactic terms). Carina is a dwarf galaxy nearby:
> 
> Source: http://www.atlasoftheuniverse.com/sattelit.html


End file.
